


Godsend

by punchinginadream



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5SOS - Freeform, Christianboy!Luke, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Religion, overly excited!ashton, punk!michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2326370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punchinginadream/pseuds/punchinginadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Michael's dad left, things had been different. Michael stopped caring about everything and everyone, went out drinking every night with friends he forgot the names of by the end of the night and doing anything to avoid facing reality. His mom gets fed up and forces him to go to a church youth group. A fucking youth group! As if that would solve all of the problems his broken family now has.<br/>Except, maybe it will. Because maybe it'll lead him to a blue-eyed boy Michael's pretty sure is an angel that God is probably missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Karen Clifford should not have been up at 2 am, but there were a lot of things in her life that should have been but were not. For example, she shouldn't have been _expecting_ the ring of the doorbell at this time of night or her son standing on the other side of the door, held in a harsh grip by a police officer. She sighed.

"Jesus Christ, Michael..."

"Karen."

"Tim, hi. I--" The police officer held up his hand to stop her from an apology that she'd uttered too many times before.

"Your son was caught on private property with 4 six packs of beer." She swallowed the lump in her throat. The officer lowered his voice before continuing, "This is the last time I bail Michael out of trouble, Karen. I know how hard it's been on you and your son, but I could get fired for doing this, you know."

"I know." Karen responded sincerely. "I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize your job. This won't happen again. I promise,"

He handed a stumbling, drunken Michael over to his mother, who had tears of disappointment in her eyes. With an apologetic smile, she shut the door and all but dragged Michael into the kitchen and onto a bar stool. He was too drunk to process the artificial lights, blinking slowly and trying to readjust to his surroundings. Without a single word, she gave him a glass of water and wiped his face with a cold washcloth to try and sober him up, hauled her arm around his shoulder and tucked him into bed with a bucket, two Ibuprofen and a glass of water.

Things _had_ to change.

-

"Me and Jesus aren't on good terms right now. Try again later." Michael tried to pull the bed covers over his head and block out the too-bright sun and his too-hopeful mother, but she wasn't letting up.

"Michael, please," the sound of her voice made Michael pull down the covers the tiniest bit so he could peak out at his mother like a prairie dog. He really wished he hadn't, because the guilty pang in his chest when he saw her tired, pleading face reverberated in his rib cage like bullet. "It's not even like that, it's just _at_  the church. It's a Youth Group...thing." She continued, counting the fraction of Michael that had perked his head out of his burrow as a sign he hadn't totally shut her out (yet). "I'm just asking you to try this once. If you totally hate it you don't have to go back but Michael, I need to at least feel like I tried."

"Tried at what?" he spat back, defensive walls being built back up and sealed even tighter in an instant. His mother closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "It's been hard, I know it has, believe me. But I have to handle this too, Mike, and I don't...I don't know how to do this." Her voice quivered at the end but Michael knew what she meant. _I don't know how to be Dad._  And all at once her son charged through all of those teenage-rebellion walls to comfort his mom as she sat gingerly at the end of the bed, gripping it so tight her fingers turned as white as the bed sheets.

"Mom," Michael pushed himself up so he was sitting, crawling over and wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders. This was enough comfort from her son, who hardly ever said "I love you" anymore; occasionally he'd say it reflexively when he told her he was going to bed or going out, but would pause right after he said it as if he wanted to take it back. (He never did.) "I don't want you to be him," Michael murmured, angling his head on her shoulder as best he could despite how much taller he was. "He's an asshole." His mom laughed halfheartedly, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes and trying to blink back even more. Michael picked up his head and looked at his mom; she looked absolutely exhausted. He hated his dad, hated him for leaving but more so for taking the light from his mother's eyes and for taking any remnants of family they had left with him. They were a hollow shell, and it was his fault. He lit a fire and then left them with the wreckage. Michael _hated_  him. He knew what he was feeling, though, wasn't half as bad as what his Mom must be going through. It broke his heart in two when he came home at 2 am to find her crying, ripping the already broken heart into two at her pathetic attempt to act okay for his benefit.

"I'll go." he said, surprising even himself. If that's what it took to make the weight on his Mom's shoulders at least a little less, then he'd do it. He'd cross the ocean for her. His mom looked at him with teary eyes and croaked,

"Thank you."

~

If Michael's dad was still around Michael would get shoved around a little, 45 minutes worth of lecturing on what a failure he was becoming and what a train wreck he was making of his life, and would get grounded; then it would all repeat the next night because the word 'grounded' meant nothing to Michael who was a master of sneaking out of the house. He would give anything for that cycle to be in full swing right now, because the church was too damn far and it was too damn cold. By the time he had pulled open the heavy iron-wrought door, he was wishing that he could go to hell just because maybe the fire would warm him up. He could hear faint music coming from one of the corridors, and grimaced. Pictures of Jesus and a large cross stared him down accusingly, making him cower slightly. _Yeah, because police offers couldn't make him blink, but big pieces of wood scared him. Nice one, Mikey_. Backwards or not, Michael couldn't help the sweat forming on his palms. He rubbed his hands on his black skinny jeans and quickly grabbed the door knob before he could chicken out. If not for the location, the people in the room would look like any other group of teenagers. T-shirts, jeans, sneakers...Michael didn't know what he expected, really. "I Love Jesus" t-shirts? Nun outfits? The only hint that this was a religious group was the song he could hear, a song that had lyrics like "Our God is greater, our God is stronger, God you are higher than any other". The boy singing it--a boy with striking blue eyes--had a good voice, a _really_  good voice that was almost drowned out by the over enthusiastic way another boy in a flannel was playing guitar. The guitar player looked too happy, the kind of guy who would tell you to _look on the bright side_. The kind of guy Michael despised. The boy with the angelic voice made eye contact with Michael as he tentatively stepped into the room. Michael chose to focus on the blue of his eyes than the stares he was getting from the other kids. The only fault in this plan was that Michael was still walking forward and wasn't looking where exactly he was walking and he-- _God_ , how embarrassing--tripped over the edge of a table _right_  as the song was ending, so the last guitar chord faded out as a few kids snickered at his clumsiness. Michael knew judgment--he'd grown up with judgment, he's the center of it every day--and, yeah, these kids had _definitely_  judged him before he'd even opened his mouth. He couldn't blame them, he supposed, with the dyed hair and the combat boots and all the black but...still. _Fucking hypocrites_. He brushed himself off, sent a deathly glare in the direction of the laughing that made them shut up immediately, and took a seat as far back as possible. The chair scraping against the linoleum floor echoed throughout the room that had fallen silent. Michael sunk down in the seat, crossed his arms, and splayed his legs out. He hadn't gone into this whole thing with a good attitude, per se, but any flicker of any of this being bearable had been stomped out.

"Hey guys!" The boy who was playing the guitar said in a voice so chirpy it made Michael physically _wince_. "Let's get started." His smile matched his voice perfectly; it was brighter than the goddamn sun. His bright eyes traveled over the sea of teenagers, paused for half a second on Michael and then grinned brightly again. "It looks like we've got some new people here," He looked directly at Michael this time. "And a lot of familiar faces, which is awesome! So let's start out with the Lord's prayer and then we can do introductions." He grabbed the hands of the people closest to him immediately as the other kids slowly did the same. The boy next to Michael held out his hand with wide eyes, as if Michael could bite his hand off. After a long pause, Michael rolled his eyes and grabbed the kid's hand as well as the person on the other side of him. He didn't join in on the prayer; he wasn't even sure he remembered it from so many years ago.

"Okay guys!" the bright-eyed guitar player said cheerfully. His voice broke the silence of the room so loud Michael could almost physically _feel_  a ripple as the connection to Jesus was broken, or whatever. "We're gonna introduce ourselves now. I'll start and we'll go in Luke's direction." He pointed to the boy beside him who didn't even flinch at the mention of his name, his eyes trained on the ground, fingers playing with the sleeves of his sweater. "So I'm Ashton." He -- Ashton -- smiled so bright it put the summer sun to shame. "I'm the group leader, and I'm so stoked to see all of you guys!" He rubs his hands together and Michael thinks that he probably has enough energy to make up for every bored-looking teenager in the room. Ashton glances to his left, at the boy with the angel voice. "Luke?" he offers in a quieter but no less cheerful voice. Luke looks up as if he wasn't expecting his name to be called, eyes as wide as saucers. (Which Michael can't complain about, because his irises are all sorts of blue and _God_  were they pretty.)

"I'm uh, I'm Luke." he stutters, and Michael wants to laugh at his worried blue eyes but he can't because he's too focused on the fact that he'd also really really like to get lost in them. "I'm 16 and I like to sing." The words are all jumbled up and he says them too quickly but Ashton pats him on the back with an encouraging smile anyways and then the next guy is talking. Michael tunes him out, instead trying to figure out what _he_  was going to say when it was his turn. _Hi, I'm Michael and I'm an atheist but my mom wanted me to go and I'm afraid she's on the verge of a mental breakdown because our dad left so I came anyways. Your religion is fucked._  He had an incredible urge _not_  to be an ass; he wanted to make a good impression (and he didn't want to do it for any certain blue-eyed angel either, thank you very much).

And then suddenly all eyes were on his, except for the blue ones which made Michael frown a little. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh, um, I'm Michael." Now _he_  was the hypocrite, he was stuttering more than Luke had been. That was his name, wasn't it? Michael had been too lost in his ocean eyes to process the words coming out of those pink lips and oh God all eyes were still on him, he had more words to say. "Shit, I'm sorry, what was the questi--oh my God," His eyes widened as he realized he had just cursed and wait, fuck shit _fuck_  did he just say oh my _God_? "Wow, I'm so sorry...wow. Wow." His hands started to twitch and he knew exactly what that meant. He needed out. "I'm so sorry. I've got to go." He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping like it had when he walked in. In the corner of his eye he saw Ashton with his jaw hanging open, as if he had something to say and he heard someone say "wait!" but he needed to breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Where could he breathe? His shoes squeaked and echoed down the empty corridor, the pictures of Saints lining the walls reminding him how far he was from one and how much he did not belong here. He collapsed against a wall when his lungs ran out of air, sliding down it and crumpling into a little ball, his hands tugging at his hair. He wished he had brought his cigarettes, cigs would calm him cigs _always_  calmed him, but of course he left them in his other coat. Dammit. Michael's head was pounding so much he didn't hear the footsteps coming tentatively down the hallway or notice another presence at all until a hand was pressed softly on his shoulder. Like a scared animal, Michael hissed and wriggled out of the person's grip, flinching.

"I-I just wanted to see if you were-were alright," Michael's eyes flickered up to find Luke standing above him and nervously scratching the back of his neck. His eyes were wide with concern. The height difference between the crouching Michael and fully erect Luke was crippling; it made Michael feel like a 4-year-old. Michael's eyes softened because Luke looked so damn _nervous_. Michael unfolded himself and shifted over, a silent offer for Luke to sit next to him, which the blond boy took. It became clear to Luke that Michael wasn't going to be the first one to speak, so the timid boy tried his hardest to initiate conversation.

"I-I'm Luke," he said, the fierce determination in his eyes to _not_ be afraid of this punk rock kid who walked into the group, _his_  group, with his big black boots and his intimidating glare falling when he realized that, yeah, he was definitely scared of this boy.

"I know," Michael snorted, heart still going a mile a minute. "You introduced yourself, remember?" he smirked, stealing a quick glance at Luke, who looked absolutely _petrified_. Michael was more than used to it.

"Right, uh. Yeah." Luke said stupidly, staring at the blank wall across from him. He tried to pretend he didn't hear Michael sniffling or occasionally softly gasping for air, trying to calm himself down.

"So did you come out here to stare at that amazing stain on the wall or...?" Michael trailed off.

"I just wanted to make sure you were, uh, okay. You bolted out of there as if you'd seen the Holy Ghost." Luke explained. Michael bit back a response to the 'Holy Ghost' thing and instead ran a hand through his hair.

"Thanks."

"Yeah." Another pause. It was actually physically _painful_. "So, are you? Okay, I mean?"

"I am, yeah." Michael responded softly, no hint of teasing or sarcasm. "Sorry I, uh, cursed in the House of the Lord." Luke chuckled.

"Don't worry about it. We're not that kind of church." Their voices were growing quieter and the silence was getting more bearable but neither of them realized it, too caught up in each other. Luke with this boy who so obviously didn't belong there, who had just let his guard down and broken that "I'm-so-tough act" in like a minute; and Michael, with this little Christian boy who actually cared enough to come looking for him after he'd freaked the _fuck_  out.

"What's that mean?" Michael asked, purely curious.

"Just...we're not like, super uptight, you know? We're modern."

"Hip?" Michael joked.

"Oh, totally. Bumper stickers for sale that say Jesus Is Bae and Turn Down for Christianity." Michael couldn't help himself -- he laughed. God, it had been so _l_ _ong_  since he'd laughed, actually laughed. A totally sober, whole-hearted, loud laugh. It made Luke perk up, made his confidence bubble to the surface. The laughter died down to this weirdly comfortable silence and _what was it about this boy_? 

"Luke?" Michael asked.

"Hm?" the other boy hummed, lost in his own thoughts.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." This time Michael _didn't_  fight the urge to roll his eyes because that was too damn lame.

"Do you guys like...does this church...how do you feel about gay people?" Michael held his breath. It wasn't like he was planning on coming here regularly or anything, but he wanted to know if these paintings of Jesus were currently damning him to hell for his unnatural lifestyle. It had been nagging at the back of his mind since he got here, and with no cigarettes, he needed to compensate. Clear his mind. It seemed like hours until Luke responded.

"I've got to assume they're fine with it," Luke said with a shrug, his nonchalant demeanor completely opposite from a nervous Michael. Totally opposite from 15 minutes ago, like they'd just swapped personalities. "I mean they're fine with me, so..."

"You're gay?" Michael asked, surprised.

"...Yeah." Luke shifted nervously, self-doubt beginning to overshadow his new found confidence.

"Oh." was all Michael said.

"I was scared to come out, though, because this church doesn't talk about it much. But, like, I told the priest during Confession and...well, yeah. Yeah, they are." Luke was suddenly aware how much he was talking, how much he was _saying_  to this boy and immediately shut himself up.  
Michael frowned a bit, sensing how quickly Luke had gone quiet, as if he was censoring himself.

"That's...that's good to know, thanks." Michael said, smiling encouragingly in Luke's direction. Side by side they hadn't really looked at each other much, which Michael was both grateful for but also hated because he wanted to see if Luke's eyes were as hypnotizing up close. Luke wouldn't meet his gaze, though, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.

* * *

  
They stayed out there for the entirety of the group, so caught up that they didn't even realize how long they had been until kids were streaming out the doors. Some looked down and Luke and Michael curiously, others judgmentally.

"And even though the church is accepting," Luke said under his breath, eyes trained on the harsh glares he was getting from a few kids. "Doesn't mean everyone in it is..."

"You get used to it." Michael whispered back as if they were sharing a secret.

"Yo! Luke! Buddy!" Luke scrambled to his feet as Ashton came to stand in front of the two boys. "Y'alright? I was beginning to get worried, but I guess you were just ditching me for Michael." Ashton said playfully, glancing at Michael, who was still sitting on the ground.

"Sorry," Luke's cheeks blushed a deep red. "We got a little caught up, I guess."

"Caught up?" Ashton raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Ashton!" Luke whined, smacking his arm as Ashton broke out giggling.

"Okay, okay! Chill out," Now Ashton's eyes traveled to Michael, who looked up at him as if he didn't even notice Ashton until right now.

"You okay?" Ashton asked, eyes turning serious.

"Yeah. Sorry for freaking out like that." Michael said sheepishly, feeling that height difference that made him feel like a child. He stood up and met Ashton's eyes with an apologetic smile.

"No worries," Ashton reassured him. "As long as you're okay. Are you going to come back again next week?" Luke let his shoulders drop, realization crashing down on him that he probably wouldn't even _see_  Michael ever again. He wanted to know Michael; wanted to know his favorite color, what kind of jelly he preferred on his toast if he even liked jelly on toast at all, what songs he listened to when he was sad. He just wanted to know Michael. Michael made him feel like less of a lanky, string bean idiot despite his brooding appearance. Luke couldn't help it; he was a curious guy. He wanted to peel back more layers of Michael until he was completely bare and totally unmasked, wanted to see what ran through Michael's veins and what held his bones together.

"I hope so." Luke was shaken out of his own stalker-worthy thoughts as Michael deliberately looked at Luke when he said it. Ashton glanced between the two for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin, slinging an arm around a dazed-looking Luke's shoulder and saying,

"Hope to see you soon, Michael!" and steering Luke away before he got the chance to say goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much; all of the while I never knew, all of the while, all of the while, it was you. [falling in love at a coffee shop, landon pigg]

Monday, Michael said it was a one time thing and that of _course_ he wouldn't go back he's an _atheist_ for Christ's sake.

Tuesday, he decided maybe instead of getting drunk Friday night with his friends, he'd go back to the youth group. (And then promptly smacked himself in the head to try and knock some sense into himself.)

Wednesday, he went out and drank too few beers and hooked up with some girl who had blue eyes that were incomparable to Luke's.

Thursday, he promised his buddies he'd be at the woods the next night and that he wouldn't miss it for anything.

Friday, he found himself in the back of an old church with Luke's knee pressing all-too-subtly against his. Ashton was going on about something, something about Jesus, but Michael wasn't listening. All he could feel was the slight bounce of the boy's leg next to his and the warmth radiating off of his skin. He was hyper-aware of Luke's gaze, travelling around the room every other minute, resting for a second too long on him. Michael decided Luke definitely had the attention span of a squirrel.

"Hey," Michael whispered, poking Luke in the forearm.

"What?" Luke replied softly, keeping his eyes on Ashton who was furiously flipping through a Bible trying to find a verse, and angling his body towards Michael instead.

"Wanna get out of here?" Michael asked, and Luke's eyes widened, which made Michael chuckle far too obviously for the quiet setting they were in.

"You came in half an hour late and you wanna leave early?" Luke tutted. "What kind of a Christian are you?"

"The non-Christian kind," Michael replied, an obnoxious _duh_ laced in his words.

"Well," Luke said after a pause, as if he was considering his words carefully. "If you can make it through one whole meeting, then I'll buy you a hot chocolate. Deal?" Michael's mind started racing at the proposition. Logical Michael knew that what Luke was implying was far from a date but Hopeful Michael still started to get butterflies in his stomach. Luke took Michael's lack of reply as a denial to the invitation. "Unless you want to take off again right after, that's okay too, I get it." he added quickly.

"No," Michael said, his voice faltering. He cleared his throat and said it sharper this time, "No. That'd be good, sure, yeah."

"Okay, cool." Luke said, eyes lingering on Michael's profile and Michael pretended not to take notice.

"Luke!" Ashton said sharply, making Luke sit up immediately and put his full attention on Ashton.

"Huh?"

"Come play a song, please? I can't seem to find this one flippin' verse, and the silence in the room is making _me_ feel awkward. And you know it takes a lot to make me feel awkward." Luke's heart melted at the dimpled, hopeful smile Ashton gave him, but he was still on the rocks about performing...in front of people... _again_.

"I...uh..." Luke stuttered idiotically, cheeks flushing.

Michael elbowed him in the side. "Go, Christian boy," he urged, tone both mocking and encouraging.

"Yeah, okay," Luke mumbled, scrambling up and grabbing his guitar mostly to get rid of the intense stares his peers were sending his way. Luke sat down next to a pleased looking Ashton, clumsily strumming the guitar a few times and re-tuning it before beginning a gospel song Michael almost halfway maybe enjoyed because Luke's voice was just _that_ good.

* * *

  
"Hey, Atheist Michael, you're joining us this time?" Ashton grinned. The hands of the Jesus clock had struck 10 pm, signaling it was over and Michael had actually made it through. Now he was leaning against the wall of the hallway him and Luke had sat against last time, waiting for the blond boy to pack up his guitar so he could get him that hot chocolate he'd promised.

"Well, Luke," -the blond boy appeared at the end of the hallway right as Michael said his name- "promised me hot chocolate and I'd be an idiot to pass that up." Whether he was talking about an offer to hang out with Luke or the hot beverage, no one had to know. Michael still wasn't sure what was so compelling about Luke; what drew Michael to him. Maybe it was the fact that Luke came and talked with him despite the fact he was a complete asshole; the way Luke didn't seem afraid of him like everyone else. Maybe it was hypnotizing eyes; maybe it was his angelic voice. Whatever it was made Michael's heart flutter the tiniest bit when he came closer.

"It's true, I did," Luke said with a small smile, standing next to Ashton and looking at Michael expectantly. "You ready?"

~

The short walk to Starbucks was still a grueling one, the wind nipping at every inch of skin Michael's trench coat didn't cover. More than once he was tempted to grab Luke's hand (for warming purposes only, of course) but he restrained himself, something he patted himself on the back for.  
Turns out going to Starbucks after 'group' was a routinely thing, so herds of Jesus-loving teenagers sort of took over the small cafe. Luke led Michael to a small table near the back and against the window, where they were away from everyone but could still hear Ashton's obnoxious laugh.

Luke smiled every time he heard it.

"You like him?" Michael asked casually, his fingerless gloves encasing the steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"Ashton?" Luke almost laughed at the thought but was too caught off guard by the blunt question. "God, no. He's straight as a stop sign...but he's sort of like my brother. Really close to me." Luke explained.

Michael nodded. "Yeah, he definitely seems...protective of you." He cringed, hoping that didn't sound too dickish.

Wait, since when did he care about sounding too dickish? He was the king of dicks. (In both ways, the cheeky part of him may add.)

"He is. Thinks I'm still 10 and innocent as anything." Luke rolled his eyes but still had a fond look on his face. "He helped me through some...tough times, though, so I let it slide."

"Oh?" Michael raised his eyebrow and took a slow sip of his drink.

Luke averted his gaze immediately, curling his fingers around his own Pumpkin Spice something or other and clearing his throat. "Well, enough about me, what about you?"

"What _about_ me?" Michael asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I dunno," Luke shrugged indifferently. "Tell me something about your life. Who's your best friend?"

"Oh, uh..." Michael searched his mind for the answer to Luke's question, opening then closing and then reopening his mouth. "I, uh," Michael cocked his head, lost in thought. "Guess I don't have one, huh." He refocused his attention back onto Luke, who was looking at him expectantly. "Never thought about it, really."

"Oh, come on, you must have a best friend?" Luke pressed, scooting his chair closer until his knee bumped with Michael's under the table. "I see you hanging out with all those guys at school."

It was hard to remember that Luke even went to the same school as Michael, because they were from such different social circles. Michael thought it was impossible not to miss Luke's bright blue eyes. Luke thought it was impossible to miss Michael's brightly colored hair.

"Those--they're not really best friend material," Michael said, trying to put it gently. "I know that sounds bad, but really, they're high all the time and if they're not high they're popping pills to calm their ever-present hangovers. I just hang out with them because...well...I don't know." Michael frowned a bit; he didn't like thinking about the things he did. He didn't necessarily enjoy them; he did them because he did them, because he's always done them. There was no explanation.

"Oh, okay." Luke said, sensing Michael's uneasiness. "What kind of music are you into?" He was desperate to change the subject, not liking the scowl Michael had on his face. He liked talking to Michael, it was easy and fun, but when Michael wasn't saying things he looked _intimidating_ and _angry_ and Luke got nervous.  
Michael snorted at his question.

"The kind I seriously doubt you'd be into."

Luke rolled his eyes. "C'mon. Try me."

"Okay," Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking Luke straight in the face as if he'd just challenged him. "Green Day, All Time Low, Mayday Parade, Say Anything, State Champs, Nevershoutnever!...Loads more, but-- _hey_ , dick! Get off your phone, you were the one who asked the question."

Luke looked up from his phone and laughed at the pout on Michael's face. "Hold on, I just wanted to show you something," He went back to his phone and was scrolling quite intensely, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth the slightest bit in concentration. It was one of the most adorable things Michael had ever seen.

"Aha!" Luke muttered, seemingly having found what he was looking for. He held the phone across the table for Michael to see. Michael squinted his eyes and surveyed the picture on the screen.

"Is that...?" he trailed off.

"Alex Gaskarth? Yep," Luke said triumphantly, eyes bright with pride.

"You like them? All Time Low?" Michael asked, shocked.

"You know, you should really stop putting me in the 'Christian Boy' stereotype." Luke said instead of answering, pocketing his phone. "I've also got the vinyl of Dookie, it's my baby."

"No way?" Michael's eyes widened. "Is it better than, like, listening to it regularly?"

"So much better," Luke confirmed, smiling brightly. Music was both boys' fortes, it was their passion.

"God, I'd kill to hear it..." Michael sighed dreamily, resting his chin in his hand and sighing melodramatically.

"You could just come over and listen to it, you nub," Luke replied, cheeks heating up as he realized he'd just _invited Michael Clifford over to his house._

"For real?" Michael asked, too excited by the offer of listening to Dookie on vinyl to realize how crazy it sounded to go over to Luke's house. Christian Luke. Dorky, loser, Christian Luke.

"Yeah," Luke nodded. "It's worth it, really."

"That'd be so cool of you, Luke, God...sh. Gosh." Luke laughed out loud at Michael's attempted censoring, making Michael's stomach flip in the best possible way. Luke's smile and Luke's eyes and Luke in general made Michael's veins flood with warmth more than a first shot of Vodka.

"I, um," Luke fumbled around, retrieving his phone again and sliding it towards Michael like an offering. "Just put your number in, yeah? And just text me whenever you wanna come over." Luke was blushing like mad; Michael found it cute as hell. He typed his number into the phone and then texted himself on the phone to get Luke's number into his own phone.

* * *

  
"I should get going," Michael said somewhat reluctantly as he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Luke said, standing up with Michael and still blushing for some reason Michael didn't know.

"I'll uh, definitely take you up on that Dookie offer though, yeah?" He glanced into Luke's eyes as he shrugged on his coat.

"Of course, come over whenever." They walked over to the door where Michael hovered for a second, unwilling to go.

"Do you want a ride home? Ashton can drive you, if you want," Luke pointed towards the bar area where Ashton was talking animatedly with a Starbucks worker.

"Nah, it's fine." Michael assured him. "My house is like 3 blocks from here."

Not wanting to push it, Luke just nodded. "If you're sure."

"Thanks for the hot chocolate, by the way," Michael added as he pushed open the door.

"My pleasure." Luke grinned, making Michael break out into a smile as well.

"Bye Ashton!" he called right before he started walking outside.

"Bye Atheist Michael!" Ashton called back, giving him an enthusiastic smile. Luke leaned against the side of the door, watching Michael disappear into the night. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You like him, Lukey?" Ashton asked knowingly.

"No!" Luke replied defensively. Ashton put his hands up in surrender.

"Just be careful, buddy. I know what guys like him are like. Tread carefully, okay?"

"I'm fine, Ashton." Luke replied bitterly. "But thank you." he said, eyes and voice softening.

"Let's get home, yeah? Your mom will kill me if I get you home after curfew again."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thought we were cool, listening to Zeppelin and making out on the Stairway to Heaven."

"I thought you wouldn't come," was the first thing out of his mouth when Michael came to Luke's house.

Michael scoffed. "That's a little rude, Lucas. I'm hurt," Michael placed a hand on his chest as if he'd been wounded.

"Don't call me Lucas," the blonde boy scowled.

"Don't tell me what to do, _Lucas_ ," Michael retorted.

"I could just leave you out here, you know that, right?" Luke asked, leaning against the door frame and cocking an eyebrow challengingly. "Don't disrespect me in my own house."

"Okay, technically, I'm in your front yard," Michael pointed out.

"Just come inside already," Luke groaned, walking away and leaving the door open for the other boy to follow.

Looking around Luke's house, Michael couldn't help but blurt out, "Your house looks expensive." It was open and spacious, with a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Everything was polished, auburn-looking wood and there were even fucking _embroidered pillows_.

Luke gave him a funny look, then giggled. "Thanks, I think? I mean, I had no say in what house we bought. It's been in my family for ages."

"Oh," Michael's attention span had timed out, his eyes now wandering around the ceiling. There was a balcony visible upstairs that Michael could imagine a younger Luke sitting at the top of, little legs swinging back and forth as he played with his remote control helicopter, or something.

"I'm not very fond of it, really." Luke continued while watching Michael's eyes roam about with an amused expression on his face. "I think it's haunted."

That got the other boy's attention quickly. "Haunted? Like ghosts?" he asked eagerly.  
"Uh, yeah," Luke said with a nervous chuckle. To tell the truth, he was shit scared of the unknown and hated all the old stories his brothers had told him when he was younger.

But now Michael's eyes were on him, over-excited like a puppy, so he kept talking. "Um, there's this story in my family that my great-great-great-grandfather or something like that, he was living here and a demon, like seeped out of the wall, or something?" The whole thing sounded preposterous to Luke, but Michael was watching him intently, completely captivated by the supposed event. "And, like, he started praying to God right there, right in front the demon devil thing and it went away."

"Wow," Michael breathed out. "That's really cool." Then he added, "I really like the supernatural kinda stuff, if you couldn't tell."

"I caught on." Luke teased.

"Uncle Luuuke!" Michael didn't even get to turn around before a small ball of pink floral has launched itself into Luke's arms. Luke grunted in response to 70 pounds attaching itself onto him, but he smiled fondly nonetheless.

"Hi, Angel," Luke beamed, dimples showing.

"Hi," she said, giggling. She looked about 6 or 7, with long brown hair that went down past her waist and tan skin. In other words, she looked the complete opposite of blonde, pale Luke. Michael wondered who she was.

"Angel, aren't you gonna say hi to my friend?" Luke asked, noticing Michael's eyes on her. The little girl twisted around in Luke's arms to survey Michael. Michael felt her take in his dyed hair, fair skin, dark eyes and combat boots. She buried her head back into Luke's neck. Michael felt a pang in his chest that he wasn't up to greeting standards for Angel.

He cast his eyes down to the ground.

"No, c'mon now Angel, don't be shy," Luke admonished, tickling her sides lightly and making her squeal. "Say hi to Mikey." With Luke's encouragement, Angel looked up again with wide eyes.

"Hi," Michael said, smiling awkwardly. Although he was just as, if not more, uncomfortable as the little girl (small children _really_ weren't his thing), he felt he had to make an effort; if not for her, then for Luke's sake.

"I like your hair." Angel said shyly after a pause.

"Thanks," Michael replied, glad she finally said something.

"I wish _my_ hair looked like that!" she continued.

"No way, I like your hair." Michael told her eagerly. "It's pretty and really long. Mine would look silly long." The image of the boy in front of her with hair like hers sent Angel into a fit of giggles, and it made Michael breathe out a sigh of relief. Luke was gazing at Michael with a dazed-out look on his face and a fond smile.

"Can I touch it?" Angel asked after another pause. In reply, Michael bent his head forward so she could run her little hands through his red hair. She tugged at the ends of it and wrapped it around her fingers. "It's so pretty!" she said in amazement. Michael pulled back and chuckled.

"Will you come have a tea party with me?" Angel asked, getting more comfortable with Michael.

"Maybe another time Angie, okay?" Luke said softly, squeezing her hand and making her refocus her attention onto him. "Me and Mikey are gonna go to my room for a while. Where are Daddy and Mommy?"

"Umm, Daddy went to the store and Mommy's outside with Grandma!"

"Do you wanna go help them pick veggies?" Luke asked her, trying to subtly focus her hyperactive brain somewhere else so he and Michael could go upstairs. Angel's eyes lit up.

"Yes!" she said, getting excited all over again. Luke laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

"Okay, go have fun alright? I'll see you in a bit. We'll be upstairs if you need anything." Luke put her down and she ran off to the backyard.

"Sorry about that," Luke said once she was gone.

"Don't worry about it. Who was she?" Luke started climbing the stairs as Michael replied, so he followed suit.

"That's my oldest brother's daughter." Luke said after some hesitation. He led Michael into his room as he continued to talk. "Her name is Angelica, but we call her Angel. She's adorable. I love her."

"How old is your brother?" Michael asked absent-mindedly as he surveyed Luke's room. There were a few band posters, all bands Michael knew and loved, and a cross hanging over the top his bed. There was a small record player in the corner on a stool and his mattress touched the ground. It was small, but not cramped. Cozy was the only way to describe it.

"23." Luke said after hesitation. "You should've seen my parents' faces when he told them he'd gotten a girl pregnant." He laughed at the memory.

"Did they go batshit?" Michael asked, then immediately blushed. "I mean--crazy. Did they go crazy?"

"You don't have to censor yourself around me, you know." Luke told him. "Don't censor yourself, it's not you talking if you censor yourself. And I wanna hear what you have to say."

Michael blushed at the simple compliment. "Okay," he muttered, focusing his attention on Luke's stack of vinyls leaned up against the wall.

"But, yeah, they did go a bit ballistic. They calmed down though after a week or so. Even let his girlfriend stay here when her own parents kicked her out. Bridget's lived here ever since."

Michael hummed in response, totally enraptured by Luke's music choices. Luke loved the way Mikey's eyebrows scrunched together as he flipped through the records, and he didn't even complain when Michael picked one up and then put it back in a different place even though he'd taken a lot of time to arrange them alphabetically.

Both boys turned when the door creaked open.

"Hi boys," a middle aged woman smiled brightly. "Sorry to bother you, but would you like to stay for dinner, Michael? Oh, I'm Liz, by the way. Luke's mum," She stuck out her hand and Michael climbed to his feet to shake her hand.

"Hello," Michael said, mustering up a smile. He was meeting a lot of new people and interacting wasn't his forte, but he was trying his hardest to act friendly.

"Oh, I'm, I wouldn't want to bother you," Michael stumbled over his words.

"Oh, don't be silly! You wouldn't be."

"Uh--" Michael's eyes locked with Luke's for help.

"Stay!" Luke invited. "It's taco night." he added with a chuckle. Michael smiled and said,

"How could I pass that up? I love tacos." He kept his eyes on Luke's, finding it much easier than talking to Liz. Luke made him feel...safe. Cozy. Like his room.

"Wonderful!" Liz clapped her hands and Luke tried to usher her out of his room.

"Okay, thanks mom!" he said with an urgency in his tone.

"Have fun!" Liz called over her shoulder as Luke guided her out.

"Ugh, sorry," Luke smiled with the same warmth in his eyes that he held when talking about Angel.

"It's no problem," Michael promised.

"What were we talking about?"

"Uh, your brother?" Michael provided.

"Right. Err, what about you?" Luke asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Have any siblings?"

"No," Michael said almost sadly. "Just me and mum."

"What about your dad?" Luke asked. Michael's movements stopped and the mood of the room shifted. Luke wanted to _slap_ himself.

"I mean, gosh, I didn't even--"

"He's gone." Michael interrupted Luke with an indifferent shrug. Luke knew Michael wasn't indifferent at the subject from the way he reacted, but let it go because, really, he should _not_ have asked that. Luke's a self-professed total idiot.  
Luke's bedroom door opening broke the tension as a tall, broad guy barged into Luke's room.

"LUKE!" His voice was deep as he pointed at the blonde boy. Luke looked 2 feet tall in comparison. "Did you take my socc--" His eyes traveled down the red-haired boy sitting cross-legged on the floor and he closed his mouth. "Oh, Mom didn't say you'd have company over." he said, his tone much calmer. He was talking to Luke but didn't take his eyes off of Michael, who shifted under the intense gaze.

"Jack, this is my friend Michael. Michael, this is my other brother Jack." Michael opened his mouth to say hello, but Jack was already talking.

"Oh, your friend, huh?" he smirked. Luke blushed 10 shades of red.

"Jack, stop," he muttered. Michael could tell immediately what Jack meant, and obviously Luke had told Jack about his sexuality. Michael admired them both; Luke for having the courage to tell his family and Jack for accepting it so easily and so casually.

"Never thought Luke would go for the bad boys," Jack continued, and Michael couldn't help but smile at the way Luke was growing more and more embarrassed.

"Jack, what did you want?!" Luke asked, trying to push him out of his room and succeeding in not moving Jack even an inch.

"Soccer ball," Jack reminded him and Luke's eyes wandered around his room for a moment before grabbing it and shoving it at Jack's chest.

"There, now can you _please_ leave?" Jack grinned evilly, tossing the ball in the air and turning towards the door.

"Fine. Nice to meet you, Michael!" And then, obnoxiously loudly,

"Remember to leave the door open, Lukey."

"I'm sorry," Luke sighed as soon as Jack was out of earshot.

"It's okay," Michael chuckled.

"I think that's the last of my family." Luke told him, taking a seat beside Michael on the floor and finding the Dookie vinyl he'd promised.

~

They stayed upstairs talking and playing 4 records until Liz called them down for dinner. Michael was interrogated with questions from Ben and Jack. Bridget was less intimidating, but still listened intently to Michael's answers. He was so not used to this, considering his friends all hated their families. (He was pretty sure it was a rule of being in the 'bad' crowd, you had to hate your parents.) Luke and Michael stayed at the dinner table long after everyone else had left, engrossed in their own conversation until Michael said,

"I should get going."

"Oh, right, of course," Luke said immediately, realizing how they'd been hanging out for, like, 6 hours now.

"Thanks for having me." Michael said with a smile, peeking around Luke's broad frame to say bye to the rest of Luke's family, who were all sitting on the couch watching a movie.

"Bye sweetie, come back anytime!" Liz yelled to him with a broad smile.

"BYE MICHAEL!" Angel yelled, popping her little head up from her spot on the floor, earning a shush from her father. Michael couldn't help but feel insane jealousy at the Hemmings family, with their taco nights and family dinners and general togetherness. Michael craved that stable home life. No, not even stable. Just...not broken.

"I'll see you at school, or group or something." Luke said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. He tried not to let his excitement shine through that today had gone (in his mind) so amazingly well.

"Yeah, or something." Michael muttered, already engrossed in his own mind. He felt the weight of the day crash down on him; what the fuck was he doing here at Luke Hemmings house, envious of his stupid suburban picture perfect family? He hoped his friends were were still out by the woods so he could go regain some sanity. Or lose it.

Whatever. Michael's smile faltered before he even turned completely around and Luke noticed immediately, his eyes were trained on Michael so much he would've noticed an eyelash fall down his pale cheek. He watched Michael leave without looking back ( _why would he?_ ) and tried to tell himself it was nothing. Michael had a good time today, right? He was smiling and laughing and his armor was laid on the welcome mat next to his shoes when he walked in. Luke shook the bad thoughts out of his head and let himself forget the grimace on Michael's face.

Big mistake.

~~~~

"Bro. Nerd 10 o'clock. Wait. 9. 8. 30? Fuck it, just look behind you." Michael turns his head to see a familiar tall frame stepping out of some kind of metallic hybrid car. His heart does a weird Irish jig. It's been 2 days since Michael had been to Luke's house and he'd been avoiding every urge to text the Christian boy the whole weekend.

"Ugh. It's that Christian boy."

"Shit, does he have a bible with him?" There's scattered laughter, all the voices laced with cigarette smoke. _Michael wanted to run. Don't walk over here. Please. Don't. No. Jesus. Jesus? Are you listening? Don't let Luke walk over here. Fuckfuckfuck._

"Hey, Hemmings!" His head of blonde hair, damp and flat from an early morning shower, jerks up at the mention of his name. His blue eyes are wide and alert. Michael knows this happens often for him. More often than he'd like to admit he knew about.

"Didn't your parents' break the news Jesus is fake along with Santa Clause?" Michael coughs once, trying to find a hole in the ground big enough to swallow him.

"God, you're such a fag."

Michael makes the grave mistake of looking up and straight into the ocean blue eyes. The realization on Luke's face makes Michael want to jump off a cliff, that's the only way he can explain it. Just run. Get out, because now he's being brought into it.

"Why's _it_ looking at you, Mikey?" Michael sits straight up as if he is finally tuning into the awful conversation.

"I have no idea," Michael says with a short laugh, but it eases the attention on him. From his friends at least; Luke's still staring at him as if he'd holding half of his heart in his bare hands. All eyes turn back to Luke, who stutters out a quiet and broken,

"M-Michael?"

"God, he's such a desperate fucking freak!" someone laughs.

"Get lost, Luke." Michael says, sounding cruel and cold but he tries to convey to Luke that he means it, that he can't stand Luke taking the punches like this one more second.

Luke looks away before Michael can even attempt to express it. He watches his lanky frame disappear into the building. Michael's own self-hatred builds with his friends laughing in the background.

"Ross," Michael says, keeping his eyes locked on Luke through the window. "You got any?" His friend knows he means weed.

"Yeah man, but it's laced with somethin' strong. In my car."

"I don't care," Luke sits down alone in the back corner, totally unnoticeable if Michael weren't totally stalking him right now. He presses his hands into his eyes to erase the image. "Give me the keys."


	4. Chapter 4

Luke's sitting cross legged on his bedroom floor. Calum's in the same position on Luke's bed and they're supposed to be doing homework, but Luke can't stop fucking glaring at that Dookie vinyl in the corner of the room as if he's got some personal vendetta against it.

"Okay, this is ridiculous." Calum slams his pencil down unnecessarily hard on his algebra homework and Luke jumps. Normally Calum would feel bad because he knows Luke doesn't like loud noises, but he's so exasperated he doesn't care. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Luke mumbles, averting his eyes to the ground, tracing invisible patters on the rug.

"Yes you do, Hemmings." Calum accuses. "Michael freakin' Clifford came to your house on Saturday and you haven't said shit about it. What happened?" He softens his tone as he goes on, noticing the way Luke's demeanor changes.

"Nothing happened," Luke insists feebly.

"Lukey, he wasn't mean to you, was he?" Calum's voice is calm but his puppy dog brown eyes flash with anger. He's taken down Luke's bullies before and he's not opposed to doing it again.

"No," Luke says, and his voice is stronger than before and it's all Calum can do to believe him. "Not while he was here, at least." The next part is quiet, but Calum catches it perfectly.

"...When you were somewhere else?" Calum asks slowly, clenching his fists by his sides as to not let Luke know he's getting ready to pound someone's face in.

"He didn't even like do it directly," Luke says almost thoughtfully.

"Tell me, Luke."

"I thought we were having a really nice time when he was here! He met Angel and he was really awkward but it was the cute kind of awkward, and we came upstairs and talked for _ages_  and I told him practically everything and-"

"Everything?" Calum interrupts, raising an eyebrow. Luke knows exactly what Calum's talking about.

" _Practically_  everything," Luke repeats, putting the emphasis on practically. Calum nods for Luke to continue. "And then we had dinner and he seemed like he was having a good time, like he was laughing and he wasn't nearly as cold as I used to think he was but then at school...well, you know those kids he hangs out? The ones who are mean to me sometimes?" Calum nods with a grimace. "Well they saw me and they started picking on me, which isn't new but like, Mikey was with them, Cal. And he didn't say anything! He told them he didn't know me and then he told me to get lost and so I did." Calum wants to be angry, wants to punch Michael so hard until he's got Michael's guyliner on his knuckles and Michael understands that Luke is _sensitive_  and that this was going to _fuck Luke up_. He wants to do all that, but at the moment, Luke's staring at his hands and his lower lip is trembling a little and Calum's instantly on the floor and wrapping his arms around his friend's shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay..." Calum tells him softly. Luke sniffles. "He's a dick, Luke. He always has been and probably always will be." Luke opens his mouth to protest, but Calum cuts him off. "And I know you want to see the good in him Luke, but what if there's none there?"

"There's good in everyone." Luke mumbles. Calum sighs, he knows this is root of all of Luke's problems: he believes everyone is good and pure and no one really _means_  to hurt anyone. Calum thinks it's a mixture of Luke protecting himself from the world and his insanely huge heart. After Luke seems to calm down a little, Calum shifts so his back is against the bed and lets his feet brush up against Luke's shins.

"Lukey, can I ask you something?" Calum asks after a long pause, tilting his head and watching Luke. Luke nods softly, eyes transfixed on a dent on the wall where Jack had kicked with his cleat after his girlfriend broke up with him. "Do you like Michael?"

Luke's eyes go wide and his head quickly to look at Calum. "NO!" he says defiantly, but it comes out as more of a whine. "No...no...I can't...I can't like him, Calum, you _know_  I can't like Michael I can't like--" Luke's breathing has become shallow and he's rambling and Calum regrets asking in the first place. He crawls back over to Luke and tucks him under his arm like he did a few minutes ago.

"Luke...Lukey...hey, calm down, okay? Whatever happens, it's going to be okay. I will be here for you no matter what and so will Ashton, so will your family. You're alright. It's okay. Everything's okay. It's fine if you like him. Okay? It's fine. Everything's fine." Luke squeezes his eyes shut and rests his forehead against Calum's shoulder, embarrassed. Calum continues to rub his thumb against Luke's arm and tilts his head against the top of Luke's.

Calum's ready to punch some sense into Michael Clifford.

~

Even if Michael didn't stick out like a sore thumb at school, Calum wouldn't have a hard time finding him. He knew exactly where the kids like Michael hang out, the kids who had clouds of smoke around their heads at all times--under the bleachers. Calum sees them every day during soccer practice, never bothers them because he never has a reason to.

Until now, that is.

Calum's known Luke since they were in diapers--literally. Their moms' did prenatal yoga together and their families are close with each other. Growing up, they could never be separated and when they got to junior high and Calum made A-team for soccer and Luke didn't even try out, it didn't change how close they were. They stopped hanging out so much, but neither of them minded. Luke sat with Calum's soccer team for a bit, until he found his own friends and his own niche, but eventually he did. He was never as outgoing or as exuberant as Calum, a bit colder and smaller where Calum was bigger and warmer, but they balanced each other out like that. Nothing could change them or their relationship. Even when Calum went away for soccer training for a whole month, as soon as he got back they were at it again as if Calum had never left. Luke always felt a bit like Calum was growing up quicker than he was, despite Calum only being a few months older, and in return Calum always felt a need to protect Luke.

That's why he's walking towards the bleachers with purpose, a soccer ball tucked under his arm and a layer of sweat coating his skin. He's walking with confidence, he hopes, when in reality he's shaking like a leaf, because Michael's scary, man. Calum straightens his shoulders when someone with a cigarette hanging out of their mouth bumps Michael and points towards Calum. He hopes he's not close enough to let anyone hear the little whimper falling out of his mouth. Michael's eyes soften and Calum assumes Luke's told Michael about him. All eyes turn to him and the buzz of conversation stops when Calum grows near.

"What do you want, jock strap?"

"Nothing to do with you," Calum says indignantly, sticking up his nose. Michael knows exactly what Calum actually wants, so he turns to his friends.

"I'll be back." he tells them, and just when he's about to walk away he turns around again. "And don't smoke all of the bud while I'm gone, will ya?" That gets a chorus of laughs from his friends and Calum swears he didn't even see Michael walk ahead of him but now he has to jog to catch up with the burnout.

"If you're here to lecture me about Luke--" Michael squints into the sun, not even glancing at Calum.

"Look--" With some new found confidence, Calum juts his hand out and stops Michael from walking any farther. He glances at his hand on Michael's chest, up at Michael's warning glare, back at his hand, and retracts it quickly. "Um, look. I know you're all tough and whatever, but for the love of _God_  don't fuck with Luke. Please." Michael opens his mouth, but Calum keeps talking. "You, more than anyone, know how much he gets pushed around. Do you really think he needs you, someone he thought he was friends with, to add on to it? Just...do whatever you want. But either be friends with Luke or pretend like he doesn't exist."

"I get it. I do. But it's either he gets picked on, or I do." Michael told Calum.

"At least you've got the armor to deal with it! Luke's a soft shell, he'll trust anyone in a heartbeat. He's innocent and doesn't know how to fucking stand up for himself, in case you haven't noticed." Calum has no idea where his confidence is, but he's practically shouting at Michael and they're chest to chest.

"Trust me," Michael lowers his voice and Calum steps back. "I don't want him getting hurt, either."

"Then _don't hurt him_ ," Calum says with venom in his voice. Isn't that obvious?

"I'm...I'm not going to anymore." Michael says, scratching the back of his neck. "I was a dick, okay, I'll give you that."

"Yeah," Calum scoffs, rolling his eyes. Michael sends him another glare. Calum straightens up. "I just don't want Luke hurt."

"Neither do I." Michael says quietly. "He's really, really nice. Like, abnormally nice."

"He's sort of...fireproof." Calum shrugs. "Like, he's very sensitive? But also he doesn't hold a grudge...like at all. And..." Calum's eyes widen. "...And I don't know why I'm telling you this." he says quietly, more to himself. Michael laughs. It's short and the smile he gives doesn't reach his eyes, but he still laughs.

"D'you think he'll forgive me if I apologize?" Michael asks.

"Of course he would." Calum replies automatically. "He's really fond of you. I have no damn idea why, but he is." Michael feels himself smile at that.

"But, whatever you do--" Calum breaks himself out of his happy thoughts. "--Do it soon, please. He's moping like a puppy dog."

"Yeah, I will. Soon," he promises, and with that Calum starts to walk back towards the soccer field and Michael turns to go back under the bleachers, to their rightful places.

"Oh!" Calum spins on his heel, making Michael stop and do the same, raising his eyebrows. "And if you _ever_  hurt him again, I'll break your neck. Got it?"

Michael laughs at Calum's attempt to be intimidating. He doesn't need Calum's threats to make him feel like shit about what he did to Luke. He did that for himself.

"Yeah. Got it."

-

Soon. Michael's got to do it soon. He doesn't even go back to his friends, totally veering past them and going straight to the parking lot. With the confirmation Luke will forgive him and that Luke's sad about it, he's going to make it right. Hurting Luke, to Michael at least, was like kicking a puppy who's helpless to defend himself. And Michael can only hope Luke will bounce back like a puppy and go back to humping his leg and licking his shoe...or whatever the human equivalent to that is.

-

"Luuuuuuuuuuuukey!" Angel yells. And, _wow, she's got strong vocal chords_ , Luke thinks as he sets down his pencil and goes to the balcony to see what she was yelling about.

"Yes, Angel?" Luke asks, running a hand through his hair and peering down at her.

"Michael's here!" she shrieks excitedly, pointing at the door. Luke's heart drops at her words but still leans over the balcony a bit to confirm that, yeah, Michael's getting out of his car with a box in his hands. Luke starts to panic--what did he want? Was he going to make fun of him again? What if--

"Are you gonna get the door, Uncle Luke?" Angel giggles, swaying back and forth. Luke shakes himself out of his thoughts and smirks at Angel, knowing his niece can buy him at least a _little_  time.

"D'you wanna get it for me, Angie?" Luke asks sweetly. Angel claps her hands and giggles.

"Yes!"

"We're gonna play hide and seek though, 'kay? I'm gonna hide, you don't know where I am! Don't tell Michael where I am, okay?"

"YAY!" Angel yells, excitedly bouncing up and down. Luke feels guilty for using Angel to avoid Michael, but he's _so_  not ready to face the red-haired boy yet. He sits down against the wall parallel to the balcony. He can see the door if he leans over his legs a little but he doesn't think anyone can see him. He hears Angel grunt as she tries to haul open the front door.

"Hi Michael!" Angel greets him after she opens it.

"Hey Angel," Michael says, surprise evident in his voice. "Why're you opening the door? Don't you know there might be _monsters_?" Luke can imagine the face he makes when he says _monsters_  and Angel giggles like wild.

"Luk--Umm, nobody told me to!" Luke sighs in defeat. His cover is totally blown. He cranes his neck to see Michael with a smirk on his face, bent down on his knees so he's eye-level with Angel.

"Hm, is that so? Well then where is Luke--I mean nobody?" Michael asks playfully.

"I don't know..." Angel replies. In a whisper (and Luke will be the first to say, Angel has _not_  grasped the concept of whispering), she adds, "We're playing a game!"

"Oh?" Michael asks.

"Hide and seek," Angel informs him.

"Ah, I see. Are you seeking?"

"Yes!" Angel exclaims.

"Want a hint?"

"Yes!" she repeats.

In a whisper similar to Angel's attempt, Michael says, "He's on the balcony." Luke gets to his feet dejectedly, knowing there's no hiding now. He walks forward until he's at the edge of the balcony and Michael's eyes wander up and spot him. He taps Angel on the shoulder and points to Luke. Angel gasps dramatically.

"Wow! How'd you know that?" she asks Michael. And then, to Luke she says, "We found you!"

"You sure did, Angel," Luke nods in agreement, his eyes on Michael as he speaks.

"Thanks Michael!" Angel throws her arms around Michael and Michael chuckles, returning her hug.

"What do I win?" Angel asks, turning back to Luke and bouncing on her heels.

"You can go get three cookies and I won't tell Mommy or Daddy."

"Ooh!" At the mention of sweets, Angel zooms off to the kitchen. Luke chuckles, eyes lingering on where she disappeared. He doesn't want to look at Michael.

"Can I come up?" Michael asks, making Luke tear his eyes away from where Angel was a few seconds ago.

"I guess," Luke mumbles, retreating from the balcony and going into his room. He leaves the door open and waits for Michael to come in.

Michael closes the door when he walks in and sits gingerly down on the floor next to the records, where he did before.

"Hi." Michael says, eyes trained on Luke. Luke's eyes, however, are staring at his hands in his lap.

"Hey," Luke says in an almost-whisper.

"Can you at least look at me?" Michael sighs. He immediately regrets asking because when Luke looks at him, Michael can see his blue eyes are swimming with unshed tears. "Ah, shit," Michael groans, running his hands through his hair.

"Sorry," Luke mutters, wiping furiously at his eyes, trying to make the tears go away.

"Don't say sorry." Michael says immediately, almost sternly. "I'm the one who should be saying. A million sorries. I shouldn't have ever--I should've done the opposite of what I did when I saw you. I should've stood up for you. I should have _always_  stood up for you. You don't deserve their shit--no one does. But especially not you."

"What do you mean, 'especially not me'?" Luke asks crossly, gasping for breath as the tears keep coming up despite how hard he tries to put them down.

"Nobody should make fun of you, Luke. You're not...you're an angel. You're so _fucking_  nice. You don't judge anyone, you didn't even judge me and I judged you, like, always! You're too nice to be real. You're out of this world kind. It's weird." Luke looks a bit hurt at being called weird. "But a good weird." Michael adds, and Luke laughs. His cheeks are flushed and red from swiping his tears away and his hands are shaking just a tiny bit.

"I'm really, really sorry Luke. I swear it'll never happen again. I was just...I don't know. I wasn't thinking, really. I felt like shit the minute I did it and I haven't stopped thinking about it. It was such a dick move, and I'm trying so hard not to use the Lord's name in vain, but my _God_  I was so mean to you. I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Luke's smiling bigger than he'd like to admit, he probably looks like a fool, he thinks. But he doesn't really care because Michael's standing up with puppy dog eyes and he looks genuinely _sorry_  and he's holding out his arms for a hug and Luke can't do anything but mumble, "Of course." and accept his hug.

They stay like that for a few minutes, just embraced in each other as Luke lets a few stray tears fall, overwhelmed by Michael's words. They're so unbelievably different from what Luke would ever, _ever_  expect from him. Michael buries his head in Luke's shoulder, arms tightening around his waist as Luke clings onto the collar of Michael's shirt. Michael stiffens, pulling back out of the blue. It makes Luke's heart race, made him think this was still part of MIchael's big joke, that he was the butt of it. But then Michael's reaching into the box he brought with him and pulling out Insomniac on vinyl, and Luke's face lights up.

"You did not," Luke says, taking it delicately when Michael hands it to him as if it's an ancient jewel. Which, really, it was.

"Just to say I'm sorry." Michael says bashfully.

"Michael Clifford, are you b _lushing_?" Luke teases, but it's half-hearted because he's still awestruck he's holding one of his favorite Green Day records in his hands.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Michael defends himself, but he's smiling too. "I thought we could listen to it together, if that's okay? I'm really eager to hear it, too."

"Of course," Luke says, and Michael swears his eyes have stars in them. "Got any place you have to be?"

Michael grins and shakes his head. "Nowhere but here." He maintains eye contact with Luke until he thinks his heart might _actually_  beat out of his rib cage. He fucking loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ultraviolashton.tumblr.com :---)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a piece of literal trash i havent updated in well over a month im sorry

"Luke!" Luke broke out into a grin when he spotted the head of red hair making his way towards him.

"Hey Michael," Luke shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear oh-so-casual and like his heart _wasn't_  beating twice as fast as it was before Michael had called his name. "What's up? You gonna come to group tonight?"

Michael skidded to a halt in front of Luke, seemingly out of breath. "Yeah, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." he explained, readjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"Oh," Luke's smile visibly fell. "Are you-are you not coming?"

"No! No, no, I'm coming." Michael reassured him, relaxing when he saw Luke brighten up again. "I was just...erm...well, I _was_  gonna invite you to maybe hang out afterwards? Like, stay the night at my place, or something. But my friend Jase is up my ass about coming to this party thing tonight, for his girlfriend, her name is Manon or some shit, she's French, I dunno. But anyways! Would you maybe wanna accompany to the party and then we could, like, hang out? I totally get if you don't want to, but I just figured I'd ask since I've gone to your house before; but if you don't wanna I totally--"

"Michael!" Luke interrupted his rambling with a laugh. It was weird to see Michael so out of his element, a bit nervous and jittery. "Take a deep breath." He nodded when Michael did what he instructed, watching his complexion go back to its normal color. "I'd love to hang out with you. Going to a party is fine. Though I've never been to one." Luke blushed.

"Oh, don't worry, it'll be fine. Just, uh, ignore the drunk kids having sex on the stairs."

Luke laughed nervously. "That's a joke, right?"

"Uh, not really." Michael admitted with an apologetic smile. "We'll be in and out in, like, 5 minutes. No worries."

"Okay." Luke nodded. "See you in group, then?"

"Yeah. See you tonight, Luke." Michael smiled at him briefly before turning on his heel and and walking in the opposite direction, missing the way Luke's entire face lit up with a smile as soon as he turned away.

~

"Ready to get this shit show on the road?" Michael asked after Luke had put away the last of the folding chairs.

"No swearing in the house of the Lord, Michael!" Ashton cut in, brushing past them.

"I repent," Michael replied automatically, and Luke smiled. A few weeks ago, he knew Michael would never set into this place, let alone talk to either of them. And here he was.

"Ready," Luke replied. He resisted the urge to grab Michael's hand. _This isn't a date, this isn't a date, this isn't a date._

"Where are you two going so quickly? Luke, you know your mom doesn't like you walking outside this late at night unless--"

"Ashton!" Luke cut in, his face turning red with embarrassment. "We're not going to Starbucks, anyways."

"Where are you going?" Ashton asked, pausing and leaning against the door frame, suddenly two times more interested.

"Michael's house," Luke lied quickly, with Michael saying, "A party," at the exact same time.

"A Michael's house party?" Ashton asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ashton, you're not my dad, you know!" Luke reminded him.

"Where are you taking my son, Michael?" Ashton asked with a stern look just to mess with Luke some more.

"We're...we're going to my friend's house for like 5 minutes, and then straight to my house, I swear." Michael thought it would be best not to lie with all of these paintings of Jesus staring him down.

"Not my dad!" Luke reminded Michael, face beet red, gesturing wildly to a very critical Ashton.

"Your friend's house, you mean a _party_  at your friends house?"

"Kill me now." Luke deadpanned, realizing no one was paying attention to him.

"Yeah. Ashton, I'm not gonna get him drunk or anything."

"I'm not five!" Luke said helplessly, turning to face the wall next to him and repeatedly banging his forehead against it.

"I know you're not." Ashton informed Michael. "It's just surprising, I guess, because Luke's..."

"Ashton!" Luke squealed, turning around.

"...Never been to a high school party." Ashton finished, talking over Luke. The blonde boy groaned loudly, and he knew his face was surely beat red by now.

"Only for a few minutes. Just to say hi." Michael promised.

"Ashton, _please_ ," Luke pleaded.

Ashton grinned wickedly in Luke's direction, knowing he'd embarrassed him.

"It's just so easy to embarrass you, Luke." Ashton winked. Luke gave him a death stare.

"Can we go now, please?" he asked desperately.

"Go ahead." Ashton gestured towards the door. "Be careful."

"Thank God," Luke muttered, grabbing a smirking Michael's arm and bolting out the door, ignoring the call of "Don't use the Lord's name in vain!" from Ashton.

~

The house was literally _vibrating_  with the sound of shitty dubstep, something Luke thought only happened in movies.

"Just stay close to me, alright?" Michael clarified, trying to speak over the music. It already hurt Luke's ears and they weren't even inside yet.

Luke was getting himself psyched up in the car, squaring his shoulders and promising himself he wasn't going to make a fool out of himself. He nodded at Michael. He was ready. He could do this.

Except, all of that was thrown out the window when he stepped inside. It really _was_  like a cliche movie, with flashing strobe lights and bodies pressed up against each other and bumping into him before he'd even gotten 3 feet inside. He instantly clung onto Michael's arm. Michael, pushing his way through the group of gyrating hips and sweat, paused to turn around and give Luke a reassuring smile. Luke gripped Michael's arm like a lifeline, which it might as well have been, with the panic that was setting in his chest. The music was making his heart thump in the worst way, and people kept bumping into him and he'd already gotten a bit of something splashed on him. (He had no idea what it was.)

Finally, Michael pulled him into the kitchen where it was dramatically less chaotic. The music was still loud and overbearing and there were still way more people than Luke was comfortable with, but at least he could breathe here.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked, concern set on his face. Luke leaned against the counter and ran a hand through his hair. _Stay cool, Hemmings._

"Fine." Luke nodded as he said in case Michael couldn't hear him over the pounding bass.

"Yo, Clifford!" Someone came up behind Luke and bumped his shoulder a little to do one of those bro handshakes Luke never really got the hang of.

"Hey!" Michael said, his voice less enthusiastic than the smile he was faking. "How are you, man?"

"I'm good, hey, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be on the dance floor grinding up against some chick by now!"

Luke felt his stomach churn.

Michael laughed uneasily. "Nah, man. Just got here. Oh! This is, uh, this is Luke." Michael gestured wildly to Luke, who unclenched his jaw and gave a strained smile.

"Hi," he said, but his voice was barely audible over the music.

"Hey, you guys want a drink?" the guy asked, reaching behind Michael and grabbing three beers before Michael had time to answer.

"Oh, uh, I don't think Luke, uh--" Michael scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Give me one." Luke heard himself saying. Michael's eyes traveled to him with a _What the fuck?_  written clearly on his face.

"No." Michael said immediately, snaking his arm out and grabbing the bottle before the guy could hand it to Luke.

Luke had a headache already from the music, and he was trying _so_  hard to act cool in front of Michael and now that very same boy had just stolen his opportunity to act like one of the cool kids.

"Michael." Luke warned, reaching for the bottle.

"Luke, you don't drink," Michael reminded him, his lips close to his ear so Luke could hear him properly.

"So?" Luke asked, reaching for the drink.

"Luke, don't. I promised Ashton."

"You don't have to look out for me." Luke yelled, reaching for the bottle.

"I'll find you some water."

This was sort of going the opposite way Luke wanted. Because Michael was trying to _protect_  him and _shelter_ him and that wasn't helping his cool guy status at all. His first party and the guy he wanted to impress was acting like a chaperon. He wanted to stomp his foot, but realized that would send him into the negatives on the coolness factor.

"Hey man, have you seen Jase and his girl yet?" Michael's friend cut in, trying to diffuse the tension.

"No, do you know where they are?"

"Yeah, they're by the DJ booth," the guy told him and Michael nodded. He turned to Luke, a stern look on his face.

"Stay right here, okay? I'll be back in like a minute. I'd take you with me, but..." Michael jerked his head towards the mass of bodies Luke just had to walk through.

"Yeah, I'll stay." Luke agreed. Michael nodded, patting him on the shoulder and mouthing 'stay' before disappearing into the crowd.

Michael's friend still stood where he was, watching Luke cautiously.

"Do you want some water or something?" he asked. "I can find something in Jase's--"

"No," Luke replied coolly. "Hand me a beer, please." The guy looked like he wanted to argue, but Luke was determined and he looked serious, so the guy just handed him the one Michael hand confiscated a minute earlier.

~

"Hey Luke, sorry it took so long, Manon likes to talk, are you ready--" Michael's eyes traveled to the table, where a half-empty bottle of Jack was sitting. "You weren't...drinking that, were you?" His eyes flashed with something Luke couldn't make out.

The blonde boy giggled, a small burp coming out of his mouth. "No way, Mikey!" He shook his head violently enough Michael was afraid he'd get whiplash.

Michael sighed, turning to his friend. "Dude, what the fuck?" Michael demanded. "I said don't give him any beer!"

"He asked me for it, man! I only gave him one beer, he got the rest of it on his own!"

" _The rest_?" Michael yelled, his eyes going wide. He turned back to Luke, who was currently trying to unscrew the Jack Daniels. His tongue poked out of his lip in concentration.

"Luke," Michael put a hand on his shoulder and he swayed a bit under Michael's touch. "Let's go home, okay?" Michael asked.

"No way, Mikey!" Luke yelled in his face. "I'm having fun!"

"Come on," Michael tore the bottle away from Luke. Luke, after a few seconds to recognize what had happened, pouted at the red-haired boy.

"Miiiichael," he whined. "I was _drinking_  that!" Michael paid no attention to his complaints, grabbing onto his arm harshly and dragging him outside. He took him out the backdoor, not trusting Luke with walking through the crowd again, especially in the state he was in.

"Michael," Luke slumped against him, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder.

"Luke, Jesus, are you _insane_?" Michael groaned, pushing the younger boy off him and trying to steady him.

"No," Luke giggled. "I was having fun!"

"Luke, why were you _drinking_?" Michael asked, exapserated. "I left you alone for, like, 5 minutes." He was pacing in front of Luke, who was swaying slightly. Michael had been on the receiving end of the drunk lecture too many times to count, but he had never given it.

"I was at a party!" Luke yelled, his words slurring. "That's what people do at parties."

"Yeah, _other_  people." Michael paused in front of him. "Not you."

Luke frowned childishly at the stern look on Michael's face. "Just wanted to be cool." he muttered crossly.

"Drinking doesn't make you _cool_ , Luke. It makes you...uncool."

"Says the guy who's drunk like...all the time!" Luke burst out laughing, the sound piercing the silent night air.

"Luke...ugh." Michael pressed his palms into his eyes. "C'mon. Let's go home." Michael held out his hand and Luke grabbed it eagerly, missing the frustrated look in Michael's eyes. They made it about halfway around the house before Luke stumbled.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Michael held out his arm to stop Luke from falling over, placing the other hand on his shoulder. "We're almost there, buddy."

"Michael..." Luke clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut. _Oh, no. No no no no._  "I don't feel well..." And, oh, yeah, Luke was puking all over Michael's combat boots.

" _Fuck_ , Luke!" Michael jumped back, saving his shoes from the rest of the contents of Luke's stomach.

"Sorry," Luke stuttered out, coughing and spluttering as he emptied his stomach.

"It's okay," Michael said, seeing the apologetic look in Luke's eyes. "Let's get you to the car, drunky. Can you make it?"

"Yeah," Luke stood up and coughed once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and accepting Michael's assistance in getting to the passenger seat of Michael's car. Michael helped Luke buckle in before starting to duck out of the car and go over to the driver's side.

"Michael," Luke clutched onto the boy's shirt.

"Yes, Luke?" Michael asked, his face close enough to smell the alcohol on the blonde boy's breath.

"You're amazing," Luke sighed, slumping his head onto Michael's shoulder. Michael chuckled, pushing Luke's shoulders back onto the car seat gently and getting into the driver's side.

They drove for a few minutes in silence; Michael almost assumed Luke was asleep until he spoke up again. 

"Hey, Michael?"

"Yeah, blue eyes?"

"You're pretty." Luke said, eyes wide and glazed over.

Michael laughed. "Thanks, Luke."

"Michael,"

"Yes, Luke?" Michael tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"Your lips are so red."

"Um," Michael cleared his throat. "Yeah, they are. Listen, why don't you try and sleep? We'll be at my place in like 15 minutes."

"But Michael!" Luke whined half-heartedly. "Your lips are so pretty, Michael. I want to kiss them."

And Michael damn near swerved the car right off the road.

He scoffed, trying to play it off though his heart was beating a mile a minute. "You're so wasted, Luke."

"I'm serious, Michael." Luke leaned over and clung onto Michael's shoulder earnestly. "I wanna kiiiisssss you."

"You're dr--" Michael started, his face heating up.

"I wanted to kiss you before I met you," Luke told him, nestling his head onto Michael's shoulder.

"Why don't you tell me that again when you're sober?" Michael said, chuckling lightly.

"Mm, okay," Luke said sleepily. "Night night."

Michael had a very drunk, very sleepy Luke snoring on his shoulder for the remainder of the ride and he had _no idea_  how to feel about it.

~

The next morning, the first thing Luke realized was that he wasn't in his bed.

The sheets smelled like something he couldn't quite figure out, but he knew it was calming and it was nice. The bed was far too big to be his, but he didn't have the energy to open his eyes and try to figure anything out because his skull was being pounded on by a thousand tiny hammers. He groaned loudly, shoving his face farther into the pillow and trying to block out the sunlight.

"Morning, sleepyhead." a deep voice said playfully, and Luke's eyes shot open. _Michael_. He was in _Michael's_  bed.

"Michael?" Luke croaked, squinting his eyes open to see the red-haired boy holding out two pills and a glass of water.

"Yeah. Hey." Michael smiled softly. "Take these. I'm assuming you have a massive hangover."

Luke just groaned in affirmation, taking the pills from Michael's hand and chugging the entire glass of water. Michael felt beyond bad for Luke, who was currently clutching his head in pain. The poor boy was experiencing his first hangover and Michael could identify with him well. The first one was _always_  the worst.

"I got drunk last night." Luke said, more to himself than Michael.

"That you did."

"I'm so sorry." Luke sighed. "Jesus Christ."

"Whoa," Michael rose an eyebrow. "It's okay, Hemmings. No need to use the Lord's name in vain."

"You sound like Ashton." Luke commented.

"Yeah, speaking of Ashton..."

"Gosh, he doesn't know I got drunk, does he?" Luke asked, panicked.

"No. And we can keep it that way, okay? I have a feeling he'd beat me up if he knew I let you drink."

"He'd beat us both up." Luke nodded.

Michael wondered if Luke remembered anything from last night. He wondered if Luke knew he'd been up all night hearing Luke in his head saying he wanted to kiss him. He wondered if Luke had meant it at all.

"Hey, Michael?" Luke said after a minute of silence.

"Yeah?" Michael picked his head up to see Luke already looking at him with some sort of hesitance on his face. He looked unsure and maybe a little... _scared_.

"I'm sober," Luke said slowly, as if he was carefully planning out what he was trying to say. "And I still want to kiss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ultraviolashton.tumblr.com :~)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuse for not updating im sorry (this also might be my shortest, shittiest chapter yet, and for that i am also sorry)

"I'm sober...and I still want to kiss you."

Michael's stomach flips, a thousand butterflies erupting in his stomach. He had been up all night thinking about how to react if Luke wasn't just a very overly-attached drunk, if maybe, possible, by some mysterious happenstance Luke wanted to kiss Michael back just as much as Michael did with him, if even _half_  of what Michael has been feeling was going on with Luke too, but now--now, he can't remember how to even form words.

It's stupid, too, because Michael _sees_  Luke's face fall when Michael's silent, he can envision all the gears working in Luke's head, all of the worries that are probably floating through the blonde's mind, but he still can't speak.

Both of them jump a little when there's a knock at the door. Michael flips around to see his mother in the doorway, her cell phone between her ear and shoulder, digging around in her purse.

"Michael," she says, so loudly Michael can almost feel the way her words reverberate into Luke's skull and make his head pound even more. "I've got to get to the--"

She glances up and catches a glimpse of the two boys, either not noticing or not acknowledging the obvious tension in the room.

"Oh," she says. "I didn't know your friend was up. Hi, I'm Michael's mom." She juts her hand out and Luke takes it with a weak smile.

"I'm Luke."

"I know, Michael's told me--"

"Mom." Michael hisses, glaring daggers at his mother. She blushes, giggling, and covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oops, sorry! Silly me." Her smile falls when she realizes neither boy is laughing. Michael looks downright deadly. "Anyways," She presses her lips into a thin line and clears her throat. "I've got to go to the office." To Luke, she says, "I work at a retirement home, so my work hours fluctuate."

"Mom." Michael says again, a bit harsher.

"I left some pancakes for you two, all you've got to do is heat them up." When no one says anything back to her, she heaves her purse farther up on her shoulder and gives them a tight smile. "Aaalrighty then! Bye!"

Once Michael hears the front door slam and her engine start, he turns back towards Luke. Which, yeah, was an awful idea, because tears are collecting at the rim of his big, blue eyes and, holy shit, _Michael caused that_.

"Luke--" Michael takes a deep breath, not knowing what he's going to say but knowing it's better than staying silent.

"I think I better get home," Luke says, standing up abruptly, his face emotionless.

"We have pancakes--" Michael protests weakly, standing up weakly.

"My mom will be wondering where I am," Luke shoots back, turning on his heel and looking for his things.

"Luke--" Michael sighs, putting his head in his hands. _Just tell him you want to kiss him too, dammit!_  "I want to kiss you, too." He picks his head up, but Luke's already gone. Michael lets out a muffled scream into his pillow as he hears his front door slam shut.

* * *

 

It doesn't take long for Michael to track down Calum. He's scarfing down his fourth pancake as he taps his foot nervously to the song on the radio that he doesn't know the name of. The phone keeps _ringing, ringing, ringing_  and _God dammit_  why won't Calum just _pick up his phone_? Because if Calum doesn't pick up, he's going to have to go to Ashton, and that means a lot of disappointed looks paired with very ironic optimism and enthusiasm and he just doesn't want that, not right now.

Finally, _finally_ , a voice on the other end picks up. "Hello?"

"Calum!" Michael shouts a bit too loudly, a bit of pancake falling out of his mouth.

"Uh..."

"It's Michael. Clifford. Michael Clifford."

"Oh. Right. What can I do for you, Mr. Clifford?" Calum asks in a very adult-like voice.

"First off, never do that ever again."

"Noted."

"Second, do you happen to know where Luke is?" Michael cringes as he waits for the answer.

"Um, I thought he was staying over at yours?"

"Yeah, well, stuff happened, and he won't answer his phone and I'm both worried but also _desperately_  need to talk to him."

"...What kind of stuff?" Calum questions cautiously.

"It's a long story." Michael lies through his teeth.

"I've got time." The red haired boy rolls his eyes, even though Calum can't see him.

"No, you don't." Michael informs him.

"Erm, I'm pretty sure I do." And, is he _chuckling_? Yeah, Calum's fucking chuckling.

"Hood!" yells Michael, bringing Calum's laughing to an abrupt end. "This is serious. Look, I know you know I know you know where Luke hangs out when he's feeling down. I've already checked his house."

"Okay, and?"

"And?!" Michael's, like, _this_  close to hanging up due to how dense Calum's being. "And he's not _there_ , dickwad! Help me find him."

"Say please." requests Calum in a sing-song voice.

"Fucking _please_ ," Michael begs without hesitation.

"Alright. Come pick me up and I'll help ya. You better tell me what happened, though."

"I will." Michael affirms. "And, thank you," he adds on hastily, grabbing a napkin as Calum starts to tell him his address.

* * *

They end up in a forest, of all places. Michael thinks he should have known. Of _course_  Luke is just _that_  stereotypical. He makes a note to make fun of him for it as soon as they get things sorted.

Michael tries not to think about what he's supposed to say, or the small bit of information Calum's supplied to him on their way here. ("No, I'm serious, man. He hasn't shut up about you for like 84 _years_ , probably. The other day he got all melancholy when we were listening to fucking _American Idiot_  because it reminded him of you.")

He's got to duck and jump his way through vines and branches with Calum trailing behind him, constantly saying things like,

"Oh, no, no, it's fine, Michael, I think I just ate a spider and now I'm going to birth a bunch of spider babies, but by all means, completely ignore me!"

"Shut _up_ , Hood," Michael groans. "Are we close?"

"Yeah, actually, it's right down--"

Michael spots him before Calum can finish his sentence. "Lucas Robert Hemmings!" he bellows, his voice echoing off the trees. Luke jumps to attention at the call of his name, turning around and going pale at the people he saw making their way towards him.

"How'd you--" he starts, eyebrows furrowing in confusion of how Michael find his favorite hide out.

"Sorry, mate!" Calum calls from behind Michael, followed by quiet curse as he nearly tripped over a rock.

"What the fuck?" Michael asks, not lowering his voice even when he's inches away from Luke's face. Luke flinches, making Michael sigh and his eyes soften.

"If we both run off at any sign of emotion, how the fuck are we gonna make this work?" Michael asks, a small smirk on his face and his hands on his hips.

"This--?" Luke starts, his question cut off by Michael's hands grabbing a hold of his face and pulling him forward. _Don't think, just do_.

"Yeah, this," he says simply, leaning forward to kiss Luke on the lips. The blonde boy makes a small noise of surprise before regaining his composure and kissing him back. When Michael pulls away, Luke chases after his lips blindly until his forehead knocks against Michael's gently. He opted for staying there, the tip of his nose brushing against Michael's, and his soft pants mingling with the older boy as he tries to regain his breathing. Luke can hear Calum clapping softly in the distance and didn't have to look at him to know he had an all-knowing smirk on his face.

"You know, I've never had to track someone down in the forest to get a hold of them." Michael informs him after a minute of silence.

"Oh, I must be pretty special, then," jokes Luke, a small smile appearing on his face.

Michael, however, isn't joking when he cast his eyes up slightly to stare into Luke's eyes and say, "You are." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shybabyluke.tumblr.com :~) (i used to be ultraviolashton!)


	7. Chapter 7

All Luke can think is that he _can't_  think. All he knows is his lips are on fire and the place where Michael's fingertips cupped his jaw is tingling. Michael's staring at him, he's waiting for a response, and Luke cannot form words. His eyes flicker over to Calum, standing a little ways away from him, who's grinning like a fool. He finds it easier to stare at the raven haired boy, sort of makes him forget that Michael's breath is hot and minty and slightly reminiscent of last night's alcohol.

"Luke?" Michael whispers, his knuckles reaching up to brush against Luke's cheek gingerly. Luke won't-can't-look at Michael, at his shining green eyes, or his lips, that probably taste of Luke. Ever so softly, Michael grips Luke's jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. "Luke." Michael says a bit more firmly. "Is this okay?" His thumb strokes over Luke's cheekbone, searching his eyes for any sort of confirmation. It occurs to him that he never really _thought_  about if Luke really liked him, just sort of went with Calum said. And, to be frank, Calum was not the most reliable of sources.

Luke can almost see Michael's gears spinning behind his green eyes, and he's quick to reassure him. "No," he says softly. "No, no. This is totally okay, I like you too, I do." Michael visibly relaxes, confusion still clear on his face.

"Then what's wrong?"

Luke takes a deep breath, trying to sort through his thoughts. He steps away from Michael, the older boy's hands falling to his sides in defeated as Luke cards a hand through his already tousled hair. "I'm just...scared, I guess?" Luke's eyes are wide, that pretty color of blue Michael loves is clouded over by something else he can't figure out. Michael opens his mouth to respond, but Luke keeps going. "I mean, you're you, and I'm me, and I mean, your friends are still your friends, and do they even know you've come out? What even are we? Are we going to be boyfriends? Michael, what if you run away?" Luke's eyes are now fully glazed over, his breathing quickening slightly as fear starts to set in. "You-you don't-"

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael sees Calum about to head towards a now shaking Luke. He gives him a 'let me handle it' look, not sure if it was a good idea, but doing it anyway.

"Luke, listen." It at least catches Luke's attention. "I was a dick when I met you, I'll give you that. But I've seen myself change over these past few weeks and I know you have too. I wouldn't be standing here, telling you this, if I haven't. I don't know if it's the fact I'm not getting stoned every day and drunk every night or if it's because of you, or a mixture of both, but I'm getting better. I want to be better for you. You make me want to be better."

"I just-I have questions, I'm confused and-" Michael grabs Luke's shaking hands, looking into his eyes earnestly.

"That's okay. We can talk about it, yeah?" He keeps his voice soothing. "We can go grab breakfast. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, we can go as slow as you like or not at all. Don't get your pretty little head worked up about it, 'kay?" Michael draws Luke into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "It's fine. We're fine. Everything's fine." Luke snakes his arms around Michael's waist, and he swears something feels _different_. They've hugged before, sure, but there was an electricity between them this time, an anxious energy. Luke can't ignore the fact Michael was so good at calming him, even if he didn't know exactly  _why_ Luke was freaking out like this.

"Come on, let's get out of here. The woods are giving me the creeps," Luke giggles at that, and even though he hiccups in the middle of it, it's still the most beautiful sound Michael's ever heard. Threading his fingers between Luke's, Michael starts to guide them back towards the car.

"Hey, guys, what about me?" Calum trails behind them awkwardly.

Michael chuckles. "I'll drop you off on the way, Hood."

"But I call shotgun," Luke cuts in, and for the first time probably ever, Calum doesn't even protest.

-

They're sitting at a corner booth in Denny's; it's too late for the breakfast rush and they're just shy of the lunch rush, so it's relatively quiet. Some pop song from 90's plays overhead, and Michael would comment about how cheesy the lyrics are, but he'd be a hypocrite. Luke and him are holding hands across the table; their legs are intertwined, with Luke's foot occasionally rubbing against Michael's calf in such an innocent way that Michael feels like a pervert for finding it hot. And, apparently, they're making complete heart-eyes at each other, if the 70 year old waitress's disgusted looks are anything to go by. They couldn't care less.

They haven't really spoken much about the topics that need to be addressed, too caught up in the feeling of just being _with_  each other in this completely new way. And maybe there's something to be said for how quickly they've fallen for each other, how little Michael still knows of Luke and vice versa, and how all of this could be the build up to some heart-wrenching romance novel break-up, but Michael doesn't really care, because he's never seen Luke's blue eyes look so _warm_  and _loving_.

"Do you like your food?" Luke asks with a hint of a smile on his face when he realizes Michael's staring at him.

"I mean," Michael chews his food mock-pensively. "It's bacon and eggs, Lucifer. Of _course_  I like it."

Luke pouts, retracting his hand. Michael tries to ignore how empty he immediately feels. "Hey, I told you not to call me Lucifer."

"I'm sorry," Michael apologizes immediately. "Gimme your hand back. I'm cold." And, well, it's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth, either. He also  _really_  likes holding Luke's hand. Luke blushes, _again_ , and obliges, grabbing Michael's hand. Michael can't help the smile that takes over his face.

"So, um," Luke pushes his plate away, a sign he's ready to start talking. Michael does the same, leaning forward to listen to what Luke's going to say. "Like, what is this?"

Michael's face drops into an expression that Luke's seen a million times before. It's his _'Really, Luke?'_   face. "I _told_  you, whatever you want it to be." And although he looks irritated, there's still something loving in his voice he only uses when he's around the blonde boy.

"But, tell me what _you_  want it to be." Luke presses, not deterred by Michael's annoyance.

"I mean, ideally, I'd like us to be boyfriends." starts Michael, and Luke's heart does a little flip. "But if you don't want to be, I totally understand."

"No!" Luke's voice is loud enough to draw a few shushes from the few people around them. He lowers his voice. "I'd um, I love that. Yeah."

"Yeah?" Michael's face hurts from smiling so much in the past hour, but he can't help it. He wants to kiss Luke, but that would involve him leaning over the table and probably spilling his orange juice and getting syrup all over his shirt, so he refrains.

"Yeah." Luke repeats. His words are finally catching up to him, the realization that he's Michael's _boyfriend_  now making a dopey grin come to his face.

"What about, like, are you out to your mom yet? Your friends?" That's the territory Michael really didn't want to have to get into, but he knew it was coming sooner or later.

"Um, no? Not yet, but I will. I want to." He squeezes Luke's hand. "With you." Luke's heart does that flip again, and he doesn't realize he's just staring at Michael like a total goof until their waitress comes around again.

"Are you two done?" she asks, not even trying to hide her distaste.

"Nah," Michael looks up at her with a cocky smirk. "Not yet." Luke suppresses a laugh, kicking Michael under the table.

"Don't be an ass about it, Mikey!"

"Hey!" Michael shrugs defensively. "If she doesn't like me publicly displaying my affection for my _boyfriend_ , then she'll have to deal."

"So you're one of those PDA people?" Luke raises an eyebrow, not believing him.

"With you, definitely." replies Michael. Luke feels his cheeks heat up. "And, what about you? Are you out to...everyone?"

"My family knows I'm gay. Calum knows, Ashton knows, my priest knows, none of my friends at school know, but we don't really tell each other stuff like that."

"No?" Michael inquires. "You don't...?"

"They're just acquaintances," Luke explains. "My sexuality isn't something I make a big deal about. I'm sure some of them know from hearing me talk to Calum and stuff," _Talking about you,_ he wants to add. "But I never really thought to tell them." Michael nods slowly, his thumb rubbing mindless circles on Luke's hand.

"I get it. You wanna tell your family about us then, yeah?"

"I mean, as long as you're um," Luke shifts uncomfortably. "You're sure you wanna do this."

Michael chuckles. "Luke, I've been thinking about this for at least a month. Are _you_  sure you wanna do this?"

"I've been thinking about it since the day you walked into my church." Luke admits breathlessly. Michael squeezes Luke's hand again, wishing he could just push the table that's blocking them away and kiss the _shit_  out of the pretty boy across from him.

The urge is too strong, and Michael's quick to flag down the waitress and pay the bill, waving off Luke's insistence to pay half. Once they're out of the restaurant and into the car, Luke laughs.

"That was quick, Clifford. What's the hurry?"

"This," Michael says simply, a bit breathless, leaning over the console and pressing his lips to Luke's. Luke makes a noise of surprise before melting into it, weaving his hands into Michael's hair. The older boy grips Luke's waist, lifting him with ease and setting him on his lap. Their close proximity allows Michael to feel the warmth of Luke's blush as he settles onto Michael's lap, and he smirks proudly. Luke, to both of their surprise, is the first to go farther, licking hotly into Michael's mouth. It's a useless battle for dominance, he knows that, but still tries to win it, hands gripping Michael's shoulders for support as he pushes himself up a bit to try and gain some leverage. He eventually gives up, letting Michael explore his mouth as Luke sits there pliantly and relishes in the feeling. Michael's hands are everywhere, trailing from Luke's waist to his neck, down his chest to the exposed skin where his shirt was riding up. Luke moans a bit at the feeling of Michael's hands being _everywhere_ , and tries to will his hips to stay still as he sucks a little on Michael's tongue. The feeling makes Michael's fingers dig a bit harder into his pale skin approvingly.

"I-we-" Luke whimpers helplessly, pulling away to try to catch his breath.

"Shh," is all Michael replies, immediately attaching his lips to the joint of Luke's jaw and trailing feather-light kisses along it. He stops and sucks at the spot that makes Luke throw his head back and whine, making a mental note of it.

"N-No hickeys," Luke gasps out. "Not until we t-tell my, _ugh_ , tell my parents." Michael hums peacefully in compliance, opting for licking little circles into the special spot on Luke's skin instead.

"I-Sh-shit," Luke squeezes his eyes shut, leaning back far enough to hit the horn on the steering wheel. The loud blare of the horn makes both of them jump, and Luke hits his head on the ceiling of the car.

"Oh my gosh-ah, ow!" Luke yelps, rubbing the spot on his head. Michael's laughing, hard enough for tears to form in his eyes. Luke pouts, keeping his hand protectively on his head.

"Hey! 'S not funny!" he complains. Michael tries to wipe the smile off his face, cooing at his pouting boyfriend.

"Aww. You're right, sweetheart. Here, lemme kiss it," Still laughing a bit, Michael tries to pull Luke in, but Luke just squirms away.

"No, you weirdo, get away from me," It's useless, because he's still in Michael's lap, so he just lets Michael kiss his head as he grumbles mindlessly.

Michael's eyes are bright, his pupils dilated as he glances at the clock on his radio. "Shit. Gotta get you home anyway, babe. We've been here for like 2 hours."

"Damn. Yeah, okay," Luke complies with a small frown. He clambers off Michael's lap and buckles his seat belt, trying to catch his breath whilst fixing his hair in the vanity mirror. Once they arrive outside Luke's house, Michael stops the car and turns to face Luke again.

"See you tomorrow, Blue Eyes?" he asks, a hint of playfulness in his voice at his casual words. As if they _didn't_  just become boyfriends. As if Michael _didn't_  want to spend the rest of today and rest of tomorrow and the rest of forever with the boy in the passenger seat.

"Yeah," Luke grins. "See you tomorrow." Instead of the usual small smile Luke offers Michael, he leans across the console and kisses the older boy. It feels like the love song coming out of the car radio. It feels amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](shybabyluke.tumblr.com) if you wanna :~)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the world's shittiest updater has crawled out of her hole to give u a shitty update

"I think I wanna tell Ashton tonight."  
  
"Yeah?" Michael turns his head to look at Luke. They're lying side by side on Michael's bed, with the older's chest heaving and Luke's cheeks a splotchy red from their heavy make-out session. Those seemed to happen at least twice a day since they got together, not that Michael was complaining. Luke hums his affirmation, staring up at Michael's ceiling. His fingers brush against Michael's, finger mindlessly tracing the lines of Michael's palm.  
  
"Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Of course." Michael says immediately. "It's your decision, babe, you know that." And it's been 6 days, but Luke's heart still flutters at the pet name. Michael gropes the bedside table, searching for his phone.  
  
"We should get going, though. Group starts in half an hour." he tells Luke.  
  
"Doesn't it take, like, 15 minutes to get there from here?" Luke questions. Michael smirks, quickly pouncing on Luke and straddling his hips, catching him completely off guard. He's got Luke's hands trapped on each side of his head.  
  
He leans down to kiss his boyfriend. "Yeah," he says as he pulls away. Luke's eyes are blown wide, his mouth hanging open slightly. "But I figure we'd have a little make-out sesh beforehand. Unless you're not up for it?"  
  
Luke's eyes widen even more. "N-No! Sounds great," he stutters, and Michael grins cockily. He climbs off Luke and goes to his closet.  
  
"Here," he tosses an over-sized sweatshirt at Luke. "Take this. It's gonna get chilly."  
  
Luke blushes, but slips it over his head nonetheless.  
  
Michael had learned quickly that Luke was quiet and sneaky when he wanted to be. He could slip past Michael's mom with ease, hoping she wouldn't catch a glimpse of how bruised his lips were.  
  
Michael, however, had no such luck.  
  
"Where are you going, Mikey?" Karen doesn't look up from the kitchen counter where she's chopping vegetables.  
  
"Uh, just to group." Michael scratches the back of his neck.  
  
"You driving your boyfriend there as well? What's his name, Luke? Quiet boy, he is," Michael almost _chokes_ on air, he swears.  
  
"My-my what?" Karen chuckles, finally looking up with sparkling eyes.  
  
"What? Was it supposed to be a secret?"  
  
"Mom, I--how did you know?" Michael's flushed red, and he can't believe this is happening. He was planning on coming out to his mom _soon_ , of course, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon or so casual.  
  
"Mother's intuition," She shrugs playfully. "Also, there's a hickey on your neck that I'm positive wasn't there when you came home." Michael pops the collar of his leather jacket, embarrassed.  
  
"C'mere," Karen says after a moment, turning towards Michael. Up close, he can see she has tears glistening in her eyes. She pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, and Michael pauses for a moment, caught off-guard, before he hugs back.  
  
"Whoever you love is fine with me, Mikes, as long as you're happy." She pets his hair before pulling back and giving him a watery smile.  
  
Michael feels a thousand-ton weight he didn't realize he was carrying being lifted off his shoulder. "Love you, mom."  
  
"Love you too, baby." Michael gives her a thousand-watt smile--something she hadn't seen her son wear in years--before heading out the door.  
  
"You know, I could've died of heat poisoning with how long you were in there." Luke complains as Michael slides into the car.  
  
"The weirdest thing just happened." Michael shakes his head in disbelief, revving the engine.  
  
On the edge of his seat now, Luke asks, "What happened?"  
  
"I think I just came out to my mom? Or, she sort of did it by herself, but." From his peripheral vision, Michael sees Luke's jaw drop.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. She knows we're dating. Wow. Wow." Michael turns to Luke, his eyes a little misty, and leans forward to kiss his boyfriend quickly, cupping Luke's jaw in his hand. It felt more official now, somehow, now that his mom knew.  
  
"One down, two to go." Luke chuckles, his heart melting a little at how Michael is beaming.  
  


* * *

  
  
They make sure to sit a fair distance away from each other during group, although Luke _can't_ keep his eyes off of Michael when he's singing. It drags on, painfully slowly, without Luke by his side for Michael to tease. Eventually, though, Ashton closes the bible and claps his hands loud enough Michael _knows_ it must have stung.  
  
"Okay, guys, thank you for coming!" Ashton's voice reverberates around the room, bouncing off the walls. "See you next week! God be with you." The hum of teenagers dies out as they all file out of the room, leaving them alone.  
  
"You guys don't need to help me, I'll catch up," Ashton says when he realizes Michael and Luke are still there. With Ashton's back turned, Michael decides to sidle up next to Luke and grab his hand. The poor boy is shaking like a leaf.  
  
"Actually A-Ashton, we wanted to t-talk to you." Luke mentally kicks himself for stuttering so much, because it's caught Ashton's attention and now he's turned around. Luke tears his hand away from Michael's.  
  
"Oh, yeah, of course, Lukey, what's up?" His eyes flicker between Michael and Luke, and his smile falls a bit. "You're scaring me a little." He laughs, but the sound is empty.  
  
"U-Um, Ashton, I--"  
  
"We're dating." Michael says boldly, not being able to take one more second of Luke's wobbly voice. After the declaration, he grabs Luke's hand, which makes him feel a bit better. Luke squeezes his hand impossibly tight.  
  
"You're--you're dating who?" Ashton asks, smiling weakly.  
  
"Ash," Luke swallows, gathering up all his nerve. "Michael's my boyfriend." The silence is thick and heavy in the air as Ashton looks between the two, then down to their interlocked hands.  
  
Running a hand through his hair, he says, "Guys, I don't--Luke," Ashton turns more towards the blonde boy.  "Are you serious?"  
  
"I am." Luke nods, not meeting Ashton's eyes. He's always been like an older brother to Luke, and he can't take the stern gaze Ashton is giving him at the moment. He feels, somehow, like he's disappointed him.  
  
"Do you have a problem with that?" There's a cold edge to Michael's voice, and Luke knows without looking he's cocking an eyebrow, daring Ashton to challenge him.  
  
"I just--don't you think it's a little early?" Ashton asks. "You've only known each other for--"  
  
"Two months." Luke pipes up, his voice strong. "I think it's plenty."  
  
"You have to know I'm just trying to make sure Luke is making the _right decision_ , Mike. I consider you a friend, and I like you, you're cool, I just want to be sure."  
  
"I'm not a _child_ ," Luke's face flushes, his blue eyes narrowing.  
  
"I know." Michael tells Ashton, subtly rubbing his thumb over the back of Luke's hand to calm him down. "I know I've done some bad things in the past. And I'm sorry. I know I've hurt Luke, but I promise I really do care for him. He makes me happy. I'd give anything to make him happy as well."  
  
"And Michael makes me happy, Ashton." Luke adds. Ashton nods, acquiesces.  
  
"As long as you're careful." Luke visibly let's out a sigh a of relief, shoulders slumping. "And you don't corrupt my little Lukey." He winks at Luke, who's moving to hide his face in Michael's neck. The older boy instinctively wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.  
  
Ashton still looks hesitant, but there's warmth in his eyes and Michael knows it's okay.  
  
"Thanks, Ashton." Michael says sincerely.  
  
"Um, also," Ashton looks contemplative, and then shrugs. "I guess this would be a nice time to say I'm bi?"  
  
"You're _what_?" Luke's eyes widen, his mouth falling open.  
  
"Bisexual, Luke, it's--"  
  
"No, I _know_ what it means." Luke interrupts him. "I just--why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"New discovery," Ashton shrugs. "Happened over the weekend." Luke still looks a little shocked, but he nods.  
  
"We're all gay, then!" Michael cuts in to the silence.  
  
"Guess so," Luke mumbles, chuckling a little.  
  
"C'mere," Ashton says as if it's obvious, holding his arms out and coaxing them in for a hug.  
  
"No," Luke mumbles. " _You_ come _here_."  
  
"Lazy bastard," Ashton chuckles, moving forward and embracing Luke and Michael into a hug.  
  
"Group hug!" Ashton says loudly as he hugs them both.  
  
" _Gay_ group hug," Luke corrects him.  
  
"Yeah," Michael says flatly. "This is great. Gay group hug. Love it. Awesome. I think you're stepping on my foot." Ashton presses down harder on his foot in retaliation, making Michael yelp, and Luke leans up to press a kiss against his cheek, fluttering his eyelashes against his skin.  
  
"Two down, one to go."  
  


* * *

  
  
"You ready?" It's Sunday, and Michael's rocking back and forth on his heels on Luke's front porch.  
  
"Not at all." Michael lets out a breathy laugh. He shoves a container wrapped over with tin foil at Luke. "Mom made this. It's brownies, I think, wouldn't let me see because she didn't want me to eat any."  
  
"Gosh, Michael, your hands are shaking." Luke takes the food in one hand and grabs Michael's wrist in the other. "Never seen you this nervous before."  
  
"I'm scared!" Michael defends himself. "Not every day you have to meet the parents. And the siblings. And the sibling's girlfriend. And the sibling's kid."  
  
"You've already met them." Luke reminds him, leaning against the door frame.  
  
"You know what I mean." Michael narrows his eyes. Luke throws his head back and laughs, and Michael feels the butterflies in his stomach being replaced with some awful gooey-mushy feeling at the sight.  
  
"Come on, dinner's not ready for another  half hour, let's go upstairs." His left eye drops into a wink.    
  
They've hardly gotten across the foyer, though, before a high-pitched squeal interrupts them.  
  
"Mikey! Mikey! Mikey!" He's used to this by now, and he's already got his arms out and ready before Angel launches herself at him.  
  
"Hey, Angel," Michael chuckles as she clings to him tightly.  
  
"Hi! Hi!" she says excitedly, bouncing in Michael's arms. "Are you staying for dinner? We can sit next to each other!"  
  
"I am," Michael confirms, making her smile even wider. Michael's legitimately concerned her tiny face might actually split in two from how big her toothy grin is.  
  
From the dining room, Michael can hear voices carrying, getting louder.  
  
"What is that?" Michael asks.  
  
Luke shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "Happens every week." He crosses his arms, turning towards the source of the noise. Jack and Ben are in each other's faces, shoving silverware back and forth between them.  
  
"It's your turn!"  
  
"No, it's _definitely_ your turn."  
  
"I did it last week!"  
  
"Did you, though?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Prove it."  
  
"How?!"  
  
"It's your turn."  
  
"No, it's-- Wait," Jack and Ben both turn simultaneously towards Luke, Angel, and Michael, who have already gotten their attention.  
  
"Guys--" Luke starts.  
  
"It's Luke's turn!" His brothers say in unison, smiling at each other. Luke sighs, knowing it's two against one.  
  
"Lukey!" Ben calls, sickly sweet. "It's your turn to set the table."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Luke grumbles. He turns towards Michael, who's still bouncing Angel in his arms. "So much for going upstairs. I'll be back in like, five minutes. Just stay here."  
  
Michael grins, watching the way Luke's brothers' clap him on the back and smile venomously at him.  
  
"Mikey, do you wanna come play tea party with me? You came late, but it's okay, because Mr. Bear is feeling sleep anyways."  
  
Michael spares a glance to Luke, who's folding napkins. He looks up and nods at Michael, giving him a small smile.  
  
Michael turns back to Angel. "I'd love to, Angelina Ballerina."  
  
-  
  
Michael's trapped between Jack and Angel, which is both a blessing and a curse. He wishes he could hold Luke's hand under the table, but it's easier to play footsie with him when they're sitting across from each other. They keep sending each other silent messages with their eyes, trying to decide the perfect time. Conversation carries on around them. Michael feels like part of the family, squished between them, with Luke staring at him over his dinner.  
  
"Luke, honey, you've hardly touched your food. Are you alright?" Liz's hand immediately goes to  feel his forehead, and Luke ducks away.  
  
"No, Mom, I'm fine." he insists, still squirming away from her. Michael coughs to cover up his laugh. "I just--I have something to tell you."  
  
"Are you pregnant?" Jack asks with a laugh. Ben smacks him upside the head.  
  
"Great joke, dumbass." He rolls his eyes.  
  
"Boys!" Liz scolds. "Language! And no hitting!"  
  
That starts Ben and Jack into arguing again, and Luke runs a hand through his hair.  
  
"It's important!" he says loudly, making everyone shut up. His eyes flicker to Michael, who smiles at him reassuringly.  
  
"What is it, honey?" Liz rubs his back, her eyes full of worry.  
  
"I'm...uh..." Just when Michael is about to speak up and tell them, Luke rushes it out quickly. "I'mdatingMichael."  
  
"You're dating - ?" Ben points to Michael, who gives him a shaky smile. Luke nods slowly, looking around the table, trying to gauge everyone's reactions.  
  
"HA!" Jack stands up triumphantly, pointing at Ben. " _You_ owe me $20!"  
  
"Dammit." Ben groans, starting to dig for his wallet.  
  
"Wait - what?" Luke's eyebrows scrunch together as he watches Ben regretfully hand him the money.  
  
" _This_ dumbass," Jack points to Ben, who's dejectedly playing with his food now.  
  
"Language!" Liz whispers harshly.  
  
Jack gives his mother an apologetic look before starting over. "This _baffoon_ thought you wouldn't tell us for another two weeks at least. I knew it was gonna be soon."  
  
"You knew?" The entire table nods, even Angel. "Did _everyone_ know?" The second question is directed at Michael.  
  
"Apparently," he scoffs. Liz laughs, reaching over to grab Michael's hand warmly.  
  
"We're glad you two told us. We're all really happy for you." Michael nods, smiling.  
  
"Thanks," he says shyly. He feels a small pair of arms wrap around his neck.  
  
"Uncle Mikey now?" she asks. Michael's cheeks flush, and he shakes his head.  
  
"No, Angel. Still just Michael." Luke says. "No uncle. Not yet, at least." _Yet_. And Michael knows it's all just honeymoon-phase lovey-dovey bullshit, but it's still enough to make him go total heart-eyes.  
  
-  
  
As they're clearing their plates, Luke bumps his hip with Michael's. "Three down, zero to go."  
  
"You know, we still have school. Everyone there." He bites down on his lip.  
  
"Worry about that tomorrow, yeah?" Luke leans forward and presses his lips to Michael's. "Right now, I'm just glad I can finally cuddle with you when we watch TV. Now c'mon," He tugs on Michael's hand. "Movie's starting." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at [here](http://www.shybabyluke.tumblr.com) :~)


End file.
